PRINCETON,  N.  J. 

No.  Ca^e,    ^ 
No.  Shelf,_s_e 
No.  Book, 


L 


The  John  J>1.  Krebs  Donation. 


/. 


THE 


DIVINE   LOVE. 


BY 


JOHN   EADIE,  D.D.,LL.D., 

MIN'lSTKIl    OF    THE    UNITED    PRESBYTERIAN    CONGREGATION,  GLASGOW, 

AND    PROFESSOR    OF    BIBLICAL    LITERATURE    TO    THE 

UNITED     PRESBYTERIAN     CHURCH. 


r  III  L  A  D  K  L  P  H  I A  : 
LINDSAY   &   BLAKISTON, 

1856. 


PROPER  «/t?%, 

THSOLOGlCiL^' 


PREFAC 


The  Discourses  contained  in  this  Volume  are  in  no  t^nse 
nor  aspect  critical,  but  are  meant  for  ordinary  readers  —  for 
the  domestic  circle,  or  the  Lord's-day  evening.  The  one 
effort  of  the  Writer  has  been,  to  exhibit  clearly  and  enforce 
earnestly  the  mind  of  the  Spirit  on  this  precious  and  delight- 
ful theme.  No  uniform  style  of  composition  has  been  fol- 
lowed, but  the  common  form  of  Lectures  has  been  aaopted, 
as  best  fitted  to  bring  out  most  naturally  and  fully  the 
instruction  contained  in  the  verses  or  paragraphs  selected  for 
exposition.  Some  have  not  the  accredited  shape  of  public 
addresses,  as  they  have  never  been  delivered  from  the  pulpit. 
But  Love  is  the  unvarying  text,  and  who  can  ever  weary  of 
it?  It  is,  in  fine,  the  prayerful  hope  of  the  Author,  that  his 
readers  may  be  stimulated  to  adore,  with  renewed  ardour,  the 
manifestations  of  the  Divine  Love  towards  them,  and  to  feel 
more  powerfully  its  influence  within  them,  as  they  strive  to 
obey  '  the  first  and  great  command  of  the  law.' 

(ix) 


CONTENTS. 


LECTURE   I. 
The  Love  op  God:  its  Objects,  Gift,  and  Design Page    13 

LECTURE   II. 
The  Love  of  Christ  to  IIis  Church  —  its  Fervour  and  Selp- 

SACKIFICE — its    NeARER    PURPOSE    AND    ITS  ULTIMATE    ReSULT,      45 

LECTURE   III. 

The  Love  op  the  Spirit  —  its  Reality  and  Glory.    (An  Argu- 

ment) 73 

LECTURE   IV. 

The  Votive  Tablet — or  the  Saint's  Record  of  his  Love.     {A 

SolUoqxnj) 93 

LECTURE   V. 
The  Adopting  Love  of  the  Father.     {A  Lecture) 116 

LECTURE   VI. 

The  Father's  Love  to  the  Son,  the  Model  and  Measurement 

op  the  Son's  Love   to  His  People 142 

LECTURE   VII. 

The  Loving-kindness  op  the  Lord,  on  the  "Wild,  in  the  Dun- 
geon, in  the  Sick-room,  and  on  the  Seas.    (-^1  Meditation),  161 

(xi) 


Xll  CONTENTS. 


LECTURE   VIII. 

Page 

The  Sin  and  Doom  of   the  Loveless 181 


LECTURE    IX. 
The  Love  of  Invitation  and  Revival.     {An  Exjiositiou.) 

Part    I.— The  Invitation  and  Welcome 200 

Part  II.— Revival 233 

LECTURE    X. 

The  Divine  Love  in  its  Reflex  Power  and  Manifestations. 
[Detached  Annotations.) 

1.  The  Momentous  Question 250 

II.  The  New  Commandment 255 

III.  The  Necessity  and  Growth  of  Love  in  the  midst  of  Per- 
secution   264 

IV.  The  Conscious  Test  of  a  Saving  Change  to  Ourselves 266 

V.  The  Basis  of  the  Christian  Poor  Law 267 

VL  Love  to  the  Bible 270 

VIL  The  Walk  of  Love 273 

VIII.  The  Apostle's  Adjudication  among  the  Graces 278 

LECTURE   XI. 
The  Friendship  and  Sympathy  of  Jesus » 281 

LECTURE    XII. 

The  Love  of  Christ  the  Sustaining   Motive   in  the  Mission- 
ary Enterprise.      (An  Ajypeal) 322 


THE 


DIVINE  LOVE 


LECTURE  I. 

THE  LOVE  OF  GOD :    ITS  OBJECTS,  GIFT,  AND  DESIGN. 
JOHX  III.  IG. 

*  For  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only-hegotten  Son, 
that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  hut  have  ever- 
lasting life.' 

And  is  it  so  ?  Can  this  extraordinary  announce- 
ment be  received  as  actual  truth  ?  Dare  we  credit 
it,  or  lift  up  our  guilty  hearts  to  comprehend  its 
terms?  O  it  is  so  strange  and  thrilhug,  that  it 
seems  to  stun  us,  and  only  on  recovering  from  our 
amazement  are  we  able  at  length  to  reflect  on  the 
blessed  declaration.  There  is  so  much  of  God  in  it, 
that  we  recognise  His  awful  presence,  and  fear  as 
we  are  entering  *into  the  cloud.' 

'  God  loved  the  world.'  If  I  use  the  expression, 
God  created  the  world,  or  God  preserves  the  world, 
or  God  governs  the  world,  the  language  which  I 
employ  is,  to  my  mind,  the  symbol  of  infinite  wis- 
dom, power,  and  benignity ;  but  when  I  repeat  this 
2  (J-'5) 


14  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

statement,  *  God  loved  the  world,'  the  simple  clause 
reveals  at  once  a  depth  and  an  amount  of  meaning 
at  which  the  mind  is  almost  startled  into  incredu- 
lity;  and  it  feels  as  if  it  were  temerity  to  lay  hold 
on  this  divine  charter  of  human  salvation.  And 
yet  these  precious  words  afford  the  solution  of  many 
a  living  m^^sterj^  Why,  for  example,  may  the  saint 
exclaim,  have  I  heen  brought  into  the  conscious 
possession  of  peace  and  joy,  and  the  dark  shadows 
that  lay  on  my  mind  have  all  fled  away ;  or  why 
does  the  throne  of  the  universe  now  stand  out  as  a 
throne  of  grace,  to  which  there  is  for  me  daily  ac- 
cess, continual  welcome,  and  rich  response;  or  why 
are  there  in  heaven  the  spirits  of  my  human  kin- 
dred, whose  bodies  are  lying  yet  in  the  darksome 
pollution  and  thraldom  of  the  grave  —  are  not  such 
changes,  privileges,  and  blessings  to  be  traced  up- 
ward and  backward  to  the  grand  and  ultimate  fact, 
that  God  has  loved  the  world  ? 

'Now,  the  introductory  '  for'  shows  that  this  verse 
presents  itself  as  the  reason  of  a  previous  statement. 
The  reference  in  it  is  to  a  remarkable  incident  in 
the  history  of  ancient  Israel.  They  had,  in  one  of 
their  periodical  fits  of  national  insanity,  so  provoked 
their  divine  Guardian  and  Provider,  that  He  sent 
among  them  'fiery  flying  serpents,'  and  many  of 
them  were  bitten,  and  died.  But  to  modify  and 
counteract  the  chastisement,  and  make  its  terror  a 
means  of  salutary  impresion,  Moses  was  commanded 
to  frame  a  brazen  representation  of  one  of  the 
poisonous  reptiles,  and  place  it  on  the  summit  of  a 


god's  love  to  the  world.  15 

flag-staff,  so  that  any  wounded  Hebrew  might  be 
able  to  see  it  from  the  extremity  of  the  camp.  And 
ever}^  one,  no  matter  how  sorely  he  felt  the  poison 
in  his  fevered  veins,  if  he  could  only  turn  his  lan- 
guid vision  to  the  sacred  emblem,  was  instantly 
healed.  It  is  then  asserted  that  salvation  is  a  pro- 
cess of  equal  simplicity,  facilitj',  and  certainty — '  so 
also  must  the  Son  of  man  Ipe  lifted  up,'  that  eyery 
'one  believing  in  Him  may  not  perish,  but  have 
everlasting  life.'  But  why  are  belief  and  salvation 
so  connected,  and  how  comes  it  that  any  one,  every 
one,  confiding  in  the  Son  of  man,  is  rescued  and 
blessed — saved  from  the  death  which  he  has  merited, 
and  elevated  to  a  life  which  he  had  forfeited  ?  This 
pledge  of  safety  and  glory  to  the  believer  has  its 
origin  in  nothing  else  but  the  truth  under  our  con- 
sideration. Belief  and  life  are  in  this  wondrous 
and  inseparable  union:  'For  God  so  loved  the 
world,  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life.' 

The  scheme  of  salvation  is  here  presented  to  us 
in  its  origin,  its  means,  and  its  design.  Or  we  may 
contemplate  tlie  love  of  God,  first,  in  its  object  — 
the  world ;  secondly,  in  the  provision  He  has  made 
for  its  deliverance — the  gift  of  his  Son  ;  and,  thirdly, 
in  the  instrumentality  by  which  this  provided  salva- 
tion is  brought  into  individual  possession  —  the  ex- 
ercise of  faith. 


16  the  divine  love. 

1.  The  Object  of  God's  Love. 

1.  Again  we  recur  to  the  starting  tlionglit,  If 
God  loved,  and  so  loved  this  guilty  world,  what  an 
unplumbed  depth  of  grace  must  be  in  His  heart. 
For  the  object  of  His  love  is  not  the  world  in  its 
first  condition,  such  as  it  was  when  His  own  eyes, 
resting  on  it  with  beaming  complacency,  pronounced 
it  'very  good,'  but  that  same  world  ruined  by  sin, 
and  condemned  for  its  apostasy.  There  would  have 
been  no  wonder  had  the  divine  Lawgiver  assumed 
the  stern  functions  of  Judge,  and  doomed  our  guilty 
earth  to  the  death  which  it  deserved.  Might  it  not 
have  been  enveloped  in  flames  which,  gleaming  far 
into  other  orbits,  would  have  taught  other  races 
that  *  our  God  is  a  consuming  fire  ?'  But  though 
He  had  armed  His  law  with  a  terrible  penalty,  and 
allowed  the  incipient  elements  of  the  menace  to  fall 
upon  the  sinner — though  the  holiness  of  His  nature 
and  the  interests  of  His  government  seemed  to  de- 
mand that  punishment  shall  instantly  and  immedi- 
ately follow  transgression  —  yet,  without  any  change 
in  our  claims  or  character,  He  has  loved  us.  And 
that  love  is  not  a  mere  relenting  which  might  lead 
to  a  respite,  or  a  simple  regret  which  might  end  in 
a  sigh,  but,  thrice  blessed  be  His  name,  it  is  a  posi- 
tive affection.  It  is  as  true  as  His  existence,  as 
real  as  our  sin.  Now,  there  is  no  merit  in  loving 
what  is  lovely.  By  a  necessity  of  our  emotional 
nature,  our  aflfection  throws  itself  out  upon  any  ob- 
ject that  presents  an  aspect  of  loveliness  ;  and  such 


GOD  S    LOVE   TO    THE   WORLD.  17 

an  instinct  within  us  is  only  the  reflection  of  a  simi- 
lar law  in  the  character  and  actings  of  God.  lie 
cannot  but  love  what  bears  His  image ;  and  there- 
fore the  bright  and  happy  essences  who  surround 
His  throne  are  for  ever  sunning  themselves  in  His 
ineffable  smile.  But,  ah  !  man  has  washed  out  and 
lost  his  moral  loveliness.  Originally  like  God,  he 
is  now  as  unlike  him  as  he  can  be,  and  there  is  no- 
thing about  him  but  his  misery  to  attract  the  divine 
attachment.  Paradise  loathed  and  expelled  him, 
and  the  globe  into  which  he  was  exiled  out  of  Eden 
has  been  cursed  for  his  sake.  '  The  whole  creation 
groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  together.'  The 
bleak  rock  on  which  no  seed  can  vegetate  ;  the  eter- 
nal snows  where  no  animal  can  breathe  ;  the  blasted 
oak  of  the  forest,  stretching  its  leafless  arms  to  the 
wintry  sky ;  the  beach  spread  over  with  the  wreck 
and  corpses  of  the  hurricane  ;  the  desolations  of  the 
volcanic  fires,  and  the  rocking  and  chasms  of  the 
earthquake ;  the  bed  on  which  tosses  the  invalid  to 
whom  '  wearisome  days  and  nights  are  appointed ;' 
the  hand  which  the  labouring  man  uplifts  to  wipe 
the  perspiration  from  his  brow;  and  those  monu- 
ments of  victory  that  tell  of  thousands  lying  beneath 
them  uncoffined  and  unknelled  —  these  are  the 
tongues  by  which  ITature  proclaims,  in  melancholy 
emphasis,  that  she  has  wandered  from  her  God. 
And  this  sin  of  man  is  not  his  misfortune,  but  his 
fault.  Sometimes  those  around  us  are  overborne  in 
providence ;  wave  after  wave  breaks  upon  them, 
and  as  they  stagger  and  fall,  they  are  more  to  be 
2  * 


18  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

pitied  than  to  be  blamed.  Alas  !  on  the  contrary, 
man  is  not  only  a  ruined,  but  a  self-ruined  creature. 
He  has  lowered  himself  to  what  he  is  —  the  victim 
of  his  own  pride  and  disobedience.  I  presume  not 
to  solve  the  mystery  of  the  origin  of  evil.  I  cannot 
tell  why,  with  God's  possession  of  infinite  power, 
and  purity,  and  love,  sin  was  ever  permitted  to  find 
its  way  into  our  world  ;  but  this  I  know,  that  amidst 
all  subtle  speculations  on  this  dark  theme  —  amidst 
all  daring  and  devious  attempts  to  climb  these 
heights  of  eternal  providence,  this  one  truth  is  very 
apparent  —  '  God  made  man  upright,  but  he  has 
sought  out  many  inventions.'  There  is  therefore 
no  palliation  of  our  crime.  Our  Master  is  not  an 
*  austere'  one,  '  reaping  where  he  had  not  sown,  and 
gathering  where  he  had  not  strawed.'  The  law  un- 
der which  man  was  placed  was  'holy,  and  just,  and 
good,'  and  he  was  furnished  with  powers  of  perfect 
obedience.  The  test  by  which  he  was  tried  was  an 
easy  one,  and  he  was,  but  '  for  one  restraint,  lord 
of  the  world  besides.'  It  was  simply  a  respect  for 
the  Divine  will  which  could  lead  him  to  obedience. 
There  was  no  commingling  motive,  such  as  that 
which  springs  out  of  natural  relationship  and  origi- 
nates moral  obligation.  But  man  broke  this  simple 
covenant,  and  wantonly  disobeyed  the  clear  injunc- 
tion not  to  eat  of  the  tree.  And  yet  that  world, 
which  has  in  this  way  made  itself  so  guilty  and 
helpless  through  its  perversity  and  dislo3^alty,  is  not 
thrown  ofl*  by  God  —  is  not  flung  into  oblivion  by 
Him,  and  covered  with  His  frown  —  is  not  merely 


19 

tolerated,  or,  like  a  condemned  criminal,  indulged 
^vith  a  few  providential  and  minor  kindnesses,  but 
is  really  loved  by  Ilim.  The  marvel  is  this  —  there 
is  nothing  He  hates  so  much  as  sin  —  and  yet  no 
one  He  has  loved  so  much  as  a  sinner.  In  spite  of 
our  alienation  and  our  hostility,  in  spite  of  our  low 
and  loathsome  repugnance,  in  the  midst  of  so  much 
that  He  hates,  and  condemns,  and  nauseates,  God 
has  loved,  yes,  has  so  loved  the  world.  What  inti- 
nite  grace  in  this  amazing  love  of  God ! 

2.  If  God  loved,  and  so  loved  this  little  world, 
surely  His  love  was  wholly  disinterested  in  its  na- 
ture. Should  some  large  and  important  province 
of  an  empire  rise  in  rebellion,  the  sovereign  will  use 
every  means  to  induce  it  to  return  to  its. allegiance 
ere  he  proceed  to  arms  against  it ;  but  should  an  in- 
significant region  be  involved  in  insurrection,  sum- 
mary vengeance  will  be  taken  at  once  on  its  folly. 
Xow,  our  rebellious  world  was  only  a  small  portion 
of  God's  universe.  What  a  melancholy  thought, 
did  we  look  up  to  the  sky  and  see  in  every  orb  a 
wreck  and  in  every  star  a  prison  of  ruined  spirits  ! 
The  great  unfallen  universe  is  a  vast  territory  on 
which  its  Creator  can  yet  look  with  complacency. 
If,  therefore,  worlds  unnumbered  roll  around  His 
throne,  brighter  in  their  glories  of  light  and  mass, 
of  structure  and  motion  than  ours ;  if  the  absence 
of  our  earth  from  creation  would  be  as  little  felt  as 
the  removal  of  a  single  particle  of  sand  from  the 
mound  which  girds  the  ocean  ;  and  if  another  divine 
fiat  could  at  once  fill  its  room  with  a  new  orb  and 


20  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

with  another  population,  whose  obedience  should  be 
coeval  with  their  existence  and  coextensive  with 
their  faculties  —  will  it  still  be  affirmed  that  it  was 
from  any  selfish  motive,  or  with  any  selfish  purpose, 
that  God  has  prolonged  our  existence,  when  life  and 
all  its  enjoyments  had  been  forfeited,  or  that  we  are 
of  so  much  importance  to  Himself,  His  happiness, 
or  the  harmony  of  His  empire,  that,  rather  than 
allow  us  to  perish.  He  gave  up  His  only-begotten 
Son  to  the  death  ?  Far  from  us  be  such  vain  im- 
aginations !  '  When  I  consider  thy  heavens,  the 
work  of  thy  fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars,  which 
thou  hast  ordained;  what  is  man,  that  thou  art 
mindful  of  him  ?  and  the  son  of  man,  that  thou 
visitest  him  V  Higher  beings  are  even  the  servants 
of  believing  humanity. 

'  0  the  exceeding  grace 
Of  highest  God,  that  loves  His  creatures  so, 
And  all  His  %Yorks  with  mercy  doth  embrace  — 
That  blessed  angels  He  sends  to  and  fro. 
To  serve  to  wicked  man  —  to  serve  His  wicked  foe!' 

The  same  truth  has  been  pictured  out  to  us  by  the 
great  Teacher :  The  shepherd  had  a  hundred  sheep, 
and  only  one  of  them  had  gone  astray.  But  his 
fond  anxieties  go  out  after  it ;  and  leaving  the  ninety 
and  nine  in  comparative  neglect,  he  flees  into  the 
wilderness  and  seeks  everywhere,  till  he  come  upon 
the  object  of  his  solicitude — the  one  poor  wanderer; 
and  when  he  finds  it,  there  is  more  joy  in  his  bosom 
over  the  recovery  of  the  solitary  straggler  than  over 


god's  love  to  the  world.  21 

the  entire  flock  that  had  not  deserted  the  fold.  O 
there  is  more  of  the  heart  of  God  exhibited  in  our 
salvation  than  in  all  His  benignity  to  the  universe 
beyond  us.  This  orb  is  truly  a  'little  one;'  and 
yet  it  has  called  out  emotions  which  other  and 
mightier  spheres  had  failed  to  elicit.  jN^ow,  such 
is  its  moral  magnitude,  that  in  its  connection  with 
Christ  it  stands  out  in  unrivalled  glory  from  other 
worlds,  and  over  its  redeemed  inhabitants  is  the 
chaunt  raised,  '  This  my  son  was  dead  and  is  alive 
again,  was  lost  and  is  found.'  Surely  this  love  to  a 
world  so  insignificant,  when  compared  with  the 
gigantic  and  numerous  planets  that  revolve  in  the 
heavens,  must  be  purely  disinterested.  '  Our  good- 
ness reacheth  not  to  Him.'  '^ot  unto  us,  0  Lord, 
not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  give  glory,  even  for 
thy  mercy  and  for  thy  truth's  sake.' 

3.  If  God  loved  this  world  —  this  w^orld  of  fallen 
men,  and  not  the  world  of  fallen  angels  —  His  love 
must  be  sovereign  in  its  essence.  For  man  was  not 
the  only  sinner  in  His  dominions.  Beings  of  higher 
original  nature,  and  having  their  position  in  heaven 
itself,  were  mysteriously  involved  in  the  guilt  and 
doom  of  apostasy,  and  expelled  from  their  bright 
domain.  And  yet,  though  they  dwelt  in  heaven, 
they  are  not  summoned  back  to  it.  Ko  pardon  is 
offered  to  them  —  no  means  of  purity  are  provided 
for  them  —  no  mediator  has  taken  on  him  the  'na- 
ture of  angels,'  in  order  to  make  atonement  for 
them.  They  are  left  to  the  endurance  of  death, 
death  for  ever — ever  sinning,  ever  suffering — while 


22  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

pardon  and  restoration  have  "been  proclaimed  to  the 
human  family  —  that  weak  and  erring  race,  so 
nearly  allied  to  the  ground  they  tread,  so  proud  in 
their  dehilit}^,  and  so  impious  in  their  thraldom. 
Would  it  not  have  heen  a  more  natural  operation, 
so  to  speak,  to  have  saved  these  lofty  exiles,  and 
called  them  again  to  the  heaven  in  which  they  once 
lived,  and  for  which  they  were  created,  than  to  se- 
lect this  distant  and  miserable  world,  and,  by  an  ab- 
normal and  mighty  process,  to  purify  and  refine  its 
wretched  and  earthy  outcasts  for  a  realm  of  exist- 
ence to  which  they  are  strangers,  and  to  which  they 
would  never  have  been  able  to  penetrate  ?  The  rea- 
sons inducing  the  Infinite  Wisdom  to  make  this 
choice,  we  may  neither  search  nor  maintain.  This 
preference  of  fallen  man  to  fallen  spirits  as  the  re- 
cipient of  divine  love,  can  onl}-  be  resolved  into  a 
mysterious  exercise  of  uncontrolled  sovereignty. 
He  has  loved  earth  and  not  hell.  Both  might  have 
been  punished  with  eternal  penalty,  and  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other  could  have  complained  of  the 
equity  of  its  doom ;  and  both  might  have  been  for- 
given and  redeemed,  and  the  one  and  the  other 
would  have  equally  felt  its  salvation  due  to  Jehovah's 
tender  pity.  Nay,  though  hell  had  been  taken  and 
earth  had  been  left  —  though  the  earliest  transgres- 
sors only  had  been  saved,  and  brought  again  to  the 
awful  presence  before  which  they  once  bowed,  the 
bright  myriads  with  which  they  once  mixed,  and 
the  hallelujahs  which  they  once  choired,  while  this 
world  was  left  to  pine  and  groan  hopeless  and  help- 


god's  love  to  the  world.  23 

less  —  and  this  alternative  one  shudders  to  contem- 
plate—  who  would  have  dared  to  impeach  the  God 
of  grace,  who  has  the  right  to  give  as  lie  pleases 
w^here  none  have  an}^  claim  on  His  bounty  ?     But, 
let  His  name  be  extolled,  earth  has  not  been  passed 
over  —  it  has  been  selected  in  His  sovereign  regard. 
Ay,  God  so  loved  the  world.     It  was  a  vain  con- 
ceit which  supposed  that  redeemed  spirits  were  taken 
up  into  heaven  to  supply  the  vacancy  caused  by  the 
lapse  and  loss  of  the  angels.     '  Glory  and  life  fulfil 
their  own  depletion  ;'  and  though  God  banished  the 
apostates  the  one  moment,  their  places  might  have 
been  all  filled  the  next,  and  the  change  might  have 
been  not  merely  compensative,  but  at  the  same  time 
the  source  of  augmented  splendour.     '  Be  not  high- 
minded,  but  fear.'     '  God  spared  not  the  angels  that 
sinned  ;  but  cast  them  down  to  hell ;  and  delivered 
them  into  chains  of  darkness,  to  be  reserved  unto 
judghaent;'  and  if  thou  art  spared  in  His  patience, 
and  kept  on  earth,  drawn  with  '  cords  of  love,'  plied 
with  the  ofiers  of  His  grace,  and  set  apart  and  sanc- 
tified unto  glory,  thou  hast  no  reason  to  boast.     0 
no;  but  every  cause  to  'rejoice  with  trembling.' 

4.  But  the  fervour  and  mightiness  of  this  love 
arrest  our  attention  —  God  so  loved  the  world  — 
loved  it  with  such  ardour  and  indescribable  gene- 
rosity— loved  it  so,  that  He  gave  His  onl3'-begotteu 
Son.  O  the  immensity  of  the  gift !  a  divine  gift 
from  a  divine  Giver.  The  grandeur  of  His  love 
may  be  seen  in  its  results.  If  you  can  measure  the 
gift,  you  may  gauge  the  depth  of  the  love  wdiich 


24  THE    DIVIXE    LOVE. 

bestowed  it.  But  the  gift  is  '  unspeakable.'  That 
gift  is  God's  own  provision  for  the  world's  salvation; 
and  while  we  contemplate  the  means,  we  shall  also 
be  able  still  to  illustrate  the  greatness  of  the  love. 

n.  The  Gift  of  God's  Love. 

ISTow,  we  estimate  the  value  of  a  gift  by  various 
criteria.  First,  the  resources  of  the  giver  must  be 
taken  into  the  account.  If  a  man  be  loaded  with 
the  blessings  of  fortune  himself,  and  occasionally 
part  with  some  of  his  superfluity,  such  a  fraction,  if 
estimated  by  its  proportion  to  what  remains  behind 
it,  is  really  far  less  in  value  than  another  gift  that 
does  not  possess  its  semblance  of  magnitude.  Our 
Lord  reckoned  by  this  scale  when  he  declared  that 
the  poor  widow,  who  cast  her  last  mite  into  the 
treasury,  gave  truly  more  than  the  wealthy  worship- 
pers, with  the  ringing  shekels  and  talents  of  their 
'abundance;'  for  '  she  gave  her  all.'  jS'or  can  the 
motives  of  the  giver  be  left  out  of  the  calculation. 
One  may  heap  favours  on  the  head  of  a  fallen  foe 
to  wound  his  pride  and  produce  within  him  a  rank- 
ling sense  of  his  inferiority;  but  such  a  donation 
sufiers  a  sad  discount  when  compared  with  other, 
and,  in  themselves,  smaller  benefactions  bestowed 
in  cordial  warmth  and  generosity  of  spirit.  The 
manner,  too,  in  which  a  gift  is  conferred  must  enter 
into  the  estimate.  If  it  be  withheld  till  it  be  wruns: 
out  of  the  donor  by  repeated  and  humiliating  impor- 
tunity ;  or  if  it  be  offered  in  a  surl}^  spirit,  and  its 
amount  enlarged  upon  with  undue  exaggeration ; 


GOD  S    LOVE    TO    THE    WORLD.  25 

or  if  it  be  meted  out  slowly  and  with  a  prolonged 
comment  upon  tlio  trouble  and  self-denial  it  has 
cost  the  benefactor,  it  sinks  at  once  in  importance, 
especiallj^  if  placed  in  contrast  with  a  lesser  boon 
given  in  frank  and  spontaneous  sympathy  —  the 
donor  all  the  while  looking  and  speaking  as  if  he 
were  the  person  obliged.  IN'or  must  the  condition 
of  the  recipient  be  overlooked.  Presents  heaped 
on  those  who  are  themselves  wallowing  in  opulence 
are  not  rated  even  at  their  intrinsic  worth — a  grain 
or  two,  more  or  less,  passing  unnoticed  in  the  heap. 
But  when  the  needy  are  benefited,  they  can  appre- 
ciate the  contribution,  and  if  relief  come  to  them 
in  their  deep  necessity,  in  the  very  crisis  of  their 
necessity,  and  in  the  last  moment  of  that  crisis,  and 
completel}^  free  them  from  danger  and  difficulty, 
then  such  discreet  liberality,  transcends  alike  de- 
scription and  gratitude.  Especially  does  the  bless- 
ing rise  in  utilit}'  and  magnitude  when  it  is  adapted 
to  him  who  receives  it.  To  a  man  who  had  lost  his 
wa}^,  and  had  wandered  till  faintness  and  hunger 
had  seized  him,  a  crust  and  a  cup  of  water  would 
be  a  largess  far,  far  beyond  a  bag  of  gold,  for  his 
trembling  arm  could  not  lift  it ;  or  the  charter  of  a 
lordly  inheritance,  for  his  eye,  dimmed  in  death, 
could  not  decipher  its  contents. 

Now,  let  the  love  of  God  be  tried  by  any  of  these 
criteria,  and  you  will  at  once  conclude  it  to  be 
beyond  mensuration.  Look,  then,  with  enlightened 
veneration  at  the  resources  of  the  Giver.  Are  they 
not  infinite  and  endless  ?  The  riches  of  the  universe 
3 


26  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

are  at  His  disposal.  But  0,  when  He  gave  His  Son, 
did  He  not  give  His  all  'i  What  other  gift  remained 
superior  to  Him,  equal  to  Him,  or  next  to  Him? 
There  was  no  second  Christ  to  confer.  The  divine 
treasury  contained  many  gifts,  which  could  easily 
have  been  conferred ;  but  was  it  not  exhausted  when 
Christ  was  given  ?  Beings  of  noble  nature,  yea,  the 
'sons  of  God,'  might  have  formed  the  boon,  and 
the  vacancy  would  have  been  immediately  supplied 
by  the  unwearied  arm  of  Omnipotence.  But  in  the 
donation  of  Christ,  (we  shrink  from  saying  it,  and 
yet  we  must,)  you  see  at  once  the  limits  of  possi- 
bility. For  He  is  no  creature,  but  the  only-begotten 
Son.  The  epithet  certainly  implies  His  possession 
of  a  divine  nature  —  one  identical  in  essence  and 
attributes  with  the  Father,  having  in  it  the  same 
majesty  of  uncreated  existence,  the  same  wisdom 
of  universal  range  and  grasp,  the  same  power  of 
unlimited  operation,  the  same  moral  linean:ients  of 
character,  and  the  same  immutability  that  casts  its 
bright  mantle  of  perfection  over  them  all.  And  as 
a  Son  did  He  enjoy  the  infinite  attachment  of  the 
Father,  and  reciprocate  it  in  eternal,  boundless,  and 
unchanging  union.*  If  Christ  be  God,  what  gift 
superior  to  Him  can  be  presented  ?  or  if  He  be  the 
Son  of  God,  what  richer  love  could  be  exhibited  ? 
Donations  might  have  chased  each  other  fi'om  His 
hand,  each  greater  and  more  godlike  than  tlje  one 
which   preceded  it,   and  though  the  number   and 

T , 

*  See  Discourse  on  John  xv.  9. 


god's  love  to  the  world.  27 

amount  of  such  gifts  might  defy  our  arithmetic  and 
outreach  our  imagination,  such  benefactions  might 
continue  through  eternity;  but  when  God  loved  the 
world,  and  gave  His  only-begotten  Son,  He  gave  a 
solitary  gift,  but  one  so  immense  and  exhaustive 
that  it  could  not  be  repeated.  "What  unfathomed 
mearing  in  the  monosyllable — so  !  God  so  loved  ns, 
that  He  gave  His  only-begotten  Son  —  so  like  Him 
as  to  be  His  very  image,  and  so  loved  by  Him  as  to 
lie  in  His  very  bosom — Him  he  gave  up  to  suffering 
and  death  to  redeem  a  lost  and  rebellious  world. 
Only  in  the  infinite  mind  could  such  a  love  be 
cherished. 

And  the  gift  is  enhanced  by  the  motives  of  the 
Giver.  There  was  in  Him  no  selfish  tinge.  It  was 
His  profound  pity  for  us  in  our  low  and  lost  estate 
that  prompted  Him  to  the  unecjualled  gift.  Unde- 
servedly and  unexpectedly  were  we  saluted  with  the 
boon.  There  was  no  entreaty  on  the  part  of  man. 
The  sky  was  not  rent  w^ith  earnest  and  universal 
cries  for  help  ;  the  heart  of  God  was  not  moved  and 
melted  because  His  ear  w^as  filled  with  the  echoes 
of  shrieking  and  clamorous  humanity.  Ko ;  His 
love  w^as  not  so  slow  or  reluctant ;  for  salvation  w^as 
provided  for  us,  in  purpose,  ere  yet  w^e  fell  into  the 
need  of  it.  His  love,  in  its  eagerness,  anticipated 
our  fall,  and  made  preparation  for  it. 

Again,  this  gift  of  His  ow^n  and  only  Son  is  the 
only  donation  that  could  have  profited  us.  There 
is  in  Him  every  blessing  we  need,  and  every  bless- 
ing is  brought  near  us  in  the  only  form  in  which  we 


28  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

can  avail  ourselves  of  it.  For  His  complete  salva- 
tion is  also  a  free  salvation,  sealed  and  applied  by 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Guilt  is  pardoned  and  pollution  is 
removed  —  our  relations  and  our  nature  are  equally 
changed  —  no  element  of  perfection  or  felicity  is 
withheld,  and  the  germs  engrafted  now  are  destined 
for  ever  to  mature  and  expand.  Ko  previous  quali- 
fication is  requisite,  and  no  subsequent  merit  is 
anticipated.  AYorks  are  wholly  excluded  as  meri- 
torious causes,  and  even  the  faith  that  brings  a 
gratuitous  justification  is  itself  the  gift  of  God. 
Christ  includes  a  full  and  free  forgiveness,  an  incip- 
ient and  progressive  sanctitication  —  peace,  hope, 
freedom,  and  joy — the  deliverance  of  the  soul,  the 
final  resurrection  of  the  body,  and  the  preparation 
of  our  entire  nature  to  see,  enjoy,  and  glorify  God. 
What  adaptation  in  this  gift  to  a  frail  and  guilty 
world,  that  could  not  win  its  way  back  to  purity  and 
paradise !  Surely  it  comes  in  this  its  fitness  from 
Him  who  'knoweth  our  frame.'  Is  it  not  Infinite 
Love  robed  in  Infinite  Wisdom  ?  O  then,  if  the 
gift  be  of  such  a  nature,  in  intrinsic  value,  in 
nobility  of  motive,  in  largeness  of  efiicacy,  and 
delicacy,  of  adaptation  —  if  it  be  the  Son  of  God, 
out  of  the  heart  of  God,  gifted  to  a  thoughtless  and 
hostile  race,  to  bless  it  with  Himself,  and  all  the 
fulness  that  is  in  Him  —  will  we  not,  under  the 
impulse  of  such  a  reflection,  be  induced  to  exclaim, 
'  Herein  is  love,  not  that  we  loved  God,  but  that  he 
loved  us,  and  sent  his  Son  to  be  the  propitiation  for 
our  sins  1 '     God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave, 


god's  love  to  the  world.  29 

unsolicited  and  freely,  the  noblest  gift  in  His  means 
to  confer — His  second  Self — His  only-begotten  Son. 
If  you  reason  from  the  gift  to  the  love  which  be- 
stowed it,  by  what  name  shall  you  call  it  —  where 
shall  you  find  epithets  to  heap  upon  it?  On  this 
subject  hyperbole  is  tameness,  and  seeming  extrava- 
gance is  actually  sterility  of  language.  Thus  have 
w^e  considered  the  amazing  fact,  that  God  has  loved 
this  guiltyand"  insignificant  world,  and  selected  it 
to  be  the  object  of  His  tender  attachment;  and  that 
He  has  so  loved  it,  as  to  make  provision  for  its 
deliverance,  in  the  gift  of  His  Son  —  that  bright  and 
matchless  display  of  His  boundless  afi:ection. 

HI.  The  Design  of  God's  Love. 

But  the  same  fervour  of  the  Divine  love  is  seen, 
too,  in  the  end  contemplated,  and  in  the  peculiar 
instrumentality  by  which  that  end  is  achieved.  He 
gave  His  only-begotten  Son,  for  this  purpose,  '  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  him,  should  not  perish,  but 
have  everlasting  life.'  The  language  plainly  im- 
plies that  the  race  are  in  a  lost  condition.  The  Son 
of  God  is  given  to  keep  them  from  perishing  — 
from  sinking  into  irretrievable  ruin.  It  was  a  per- 
dition great  and  terrible  which  sin  had  produced. 
"What  a  frightful  spectacle  !  a  soul  in  ruins  —  away 
from  God,  and  hostile  to  Him  —  His  image  gone, 
His  glory  in  the  dust,  a  darkened  mind,  a  distracted 
or  sensualised  heart,  a  spirit  in  thraldom,  appetite 
predominant,  the  divine  law  forgotten,  conscience 
bribed,  hushed,  or  quelled ;  and  the  end  of  man's 


30  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

being  not  only  unrealised,  but,  by  a  reversed  polarity 
of  inclination,  fought  against,  and  the  end  that  was 
at  the  opposite  extreme  pursued  and  gained.  And 
so  the  soul  perishes  —  sinks,  and  sinks  lower  and 
lower  still,  till  it  fall  into  unending  agony,  and 
suffer  the  penalty  of  disloyal  transgression.  The 
most  terrible  imagery  is  employed  in  scripture  to 
depict  the  fate  of  the  wicked  —  the  intensity  of  un- 
quenchable fire  —  the  blackness  of  unbroken  gloom 
—  ceaseless  descent  into  a  bottomless  abyss  —  the 
gnawing  of  a  undying  worm — and  the  lining  spasms 
of  the  ^second  death.'  [N'ot  that  any  agonj^  is 
needed  in  the  form  of  material  appliance ;  but  the 
spirit  of  the  language  is,  that  the  anguish  of  a  soul, 
which,  in  another  world,  realises  its  severance  from 
God,  and  feels  itself  to  be  the  guilty  cause  of  this  alien- 
ation, which  shuts  oat  all  hope  or  idea  of  return,  and 
is  ever  reminded  b}'  all  around  it,  in  scenery  and 
companionship,  that  it  is  lost,  and  lost  for  aye  — 
must  be  an  anfi^uish  so  intolerable  as  to  be  above  all 
description  and  beyond  all  relief. 

i!^ow,  there  ma}^  be  many  aspects  of  retribution. 
If  memory  recall  the  hosts  of  opportunities  neglected, 
and  wring  the  spirit  with  remorse,  may  not  imagi- 
nation create  a  torture  by  picturing  out  to  itself  the 
cross  in  fiery  gleam,  and  be  so  haunted  with  the 
spectral  symbol,  as  to  be  forced,  ever  and  anon,  to 
gaze  upon  it,  while  the  vision  must  pierce  the  heart 
with  unutterable  pangs,  because  it  looked  not  and 
was  saved,  when  the  day  of  grace  was  not  gone, 
and  a  look  of  faith  would  have  brought  salvation  ? 


god's  love  to  the  world.  81 

Or  may  not  fierce  and  turbulent  passion,  possessed 
in  uncliecked  ascendency,  and  yearning  for  gratifi- 
cation and  finding  none,  devour  itself  in  increasing 
bitterness  ?  If  the  teaching  of  the  parable  of  the 
talents  be  listened  to,  there  do  we  learn  that  gifts 
misimproved  are  taken  away;  that  genius  abused 
shall  wither  under  the  curse  of  sterility  and  impo- 
tence—  for  ever  stung  with  the  consciousness  that 
itself  has  done  it,  and  impelled  to  cry  in  agony  to 
the  Avenger,  '  Thou  art  justified  when  thou  speakest, 
and  clear  w^hen  thou  judgest.'  But  no  matter  in 
what  form  this  perdition  is  felt,  the  fact  is,  that  a 
soul  which  comes  short  of  the  end  of  its  being  —  the 
glorification  and  enjoyment  of  God  —  is  a  lost  soul. 
If  it  cannot  enjoy  God,  if  it  cannot  look  in  His  face, 
with  confidence,  if  it  cannot  exult  in  His  presence, 
if  it  do  not  feel  Him  to  be  its  only  portion  and  satis- 
faction, if  it  shrink  and  tremble  before  Him,  and 
shun  Him,  conscious  that  it  is  hostile  to  Him  and 
unlike  Him  —  0  then  it  is  lost !  for  w^hat  can  bless 
it  or  restore  it  ?  It  must  prey  upon  itself,  and  its 
essential  immortality  becomes  its  curse.  It  cannot 
die,  or  fall  into  the  shades  of  non-existence.  Could 
it  cease  to  think  or  feel,  there  might  be  refuge; 
could  it  cast  itself  into  stupor,  there  might  be 
remedy.  Without  faith  in  God,  or  love  to  Him,  it 
cannot  but  perish  —  there  is  no  sphere  where  it  can 
be  happy,  no  state  in  which  it  can  gladden  or  be- 
guile itself. 

,     Thus,  tlic  entire  species  having  wrested  itself  from 
fellowship  with  God  — having  cast  oft'  His  authority. 


32  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

and  inciuTed  His  just  displeasure  —  might  have 
perished,  and  most  certainly  would  have  perished, 
if  the  mercy  of  God  had  not  prevented.  It  had 
severed  itself  from  the  throne,  and  would  have  fallen, 
and  fallen  for  ever,  if  the  hand  of  Him  that  sits 
upon  that  throne  had  not  arrested  its  descent,  and 
a  voice  of  ineftahle  love  had  cried,  '  Deliver  from 
going  down  to  the  pit:  I  have  fonnd  a  ransom.' 
But  the  ohject  of  the  gift  of  Christ  is  not  merely  to 
free  sinners  from  danger,  keep  them  from  doom, 
and  hring  them  into  a  species  of  negative  safety. 
He  was  given  that  positive  hlessings  might  he  con- 
ferred ;  that  rescue  from  dano-er  mis-ht  be  followed 
by  renewal  of  heart ;  that  the  Mien  spirit  might  not 
only  be  stopped  in  its  downward  progress,  but  raised, 
and  brought  back,  and  re-nnited  to  the  only  source 
of  life  and  joy.  The  disease  is  not  simply  checked, 
and  the  patient  kept  in  weakness,  but  health  and 
activity  are  fully  restored.  The  prodigal  son  has 
not  a  portion  sent  him  to  keep  him  from  starvation 
in  the  *  far  country,'  and  among  the  unclean  herds 
which  he  tends  ;  nor  is  he  detained  at  the  spot  where 
his  father  met  him  and  embraced  him,  and  there 
washed,  and  fed,  and  clothed;  but  he  is  at  once 
brought  into  the  household,  to  its  inner  chamber, 
clad  in  its  best  robe,  feasted  at  its  upper  table,  and 
upon  its  richest  viands.  The  believer  in  Christ  not 
only  does  not  perish,  but  has  '■  everlasting  life.' 

What  a  mine  of  indescribable  happiness  in  that 
term — life !  It  is  the  sum  of  all  blessing — the  elixir 
of  all  enjoyment.     Life,  how  eagerly  cherished  by 


god's  love  to  the  world.  33 

all !     The  young  hope  for  it,  the  aged  are  loath  to 
quit  it,  the  sick  man  tugs  for  it,  the  bad  man  dreads 
its  termination,  and  the  good  man  pra3's  for  its  con- 
tinuance.    The  whole  struggle  of  the  world  is  for 
life  —  for  means  to  enliven  and  prolong  it.     It  is  full 
of  contrivances  to  shut  out  the  idea  of  death.     Kow, 
if  there  be  such  anxiety  for  the  life  that  now  is,  a 
life  that  is  brief  and  chequered  by  clouds  and  trials  ; 
a  life  that  is  rarely  stretched  to  threescore  and  ten 
years,  and  is  ended  amidst  spasms  and  tears ;    0 
what  intense  aspirations,  and  prayers,  and  wrest- 
lings should  there  not  be  after  a  life  that  is  not 
measured  by  centuries  or  by  millenniums  ;  a  life  far 
above  change  and  sorrow — a  life  serene  as  the  bosom 
of  its  Givei',  and  endless  as   God's  ow^n  eternity ! 
For  this  life  is  not  mere  immortality,  but  a  happy 
immortality.     It  is  the  perfection  of  our  spiritual 
being,  enjoyed  in  the  presence  of  God  ;  the  intellect 
acting  in  an  atmosphere  of  unclouded  truth,  and 
the  heart  throbbing  in  a  region  of  universal  love ; 
life  having  found  its  highest  aim  and  its  noblest  de- 
velopment in  the  praise  and  service  of  God.     This 
is  life  —  to  be  in  Him,  near  Him,  like  Him  —  Him- 
self the  giver,  and  Himself  the  gift  —  Himself  the 
portion,  and  Himself  the  song. 

'And  not  to  one  created  thing 
Shall  our  embrace  be  given; 

But  all  our  joy  shall  be  in  God  — 
For  only  God  is  heaven.' 

'  Sin   has   reigned   unto   death :    but  grace  reigns 
through  righteousness  unto  eternal  life  by  Christ 


34  THE    DIVIXE    LOVE. 

Jesus  onr  Lord.'  How  glorious,  therefore,  the  pur- 
pose of  the  divine  gift  of  the  Son  of  God  —  to  con- 
fer life  ;  to  give  man  the  best  of  blessings  —  eternal 
life ! 

For  this  life  never  dies;  it  is  ^everlasting  life.' 
Ah  I  how  chilly  should  our  enjoyment  of  heavenly 
glory  be,  if  we  had  any  suspicions  of  its  termina- 
'  tion  !  The  faintest  doubt  of  its  coming  to  an  end 
would  wither  the  laurel  and  unstring  the  harp. 
That  all  this  glory  should  have  the  pall  of  gloom 
over  it,  and  this  life  should  come  to  its  last  moment, 
hov'  saddening  and  vexatious  must  be  the  thought 
of  such  a  possibility  !  'No  ;  the  life  is  everlasting — 
as  it  springs  from  the  '  fountain  of  life.'  The  grace 
that  conferred  it  never  w^earies  in  giving,  and  never 
revokes  its  boon ;  the  throne  before  which  it  throbs 
and  sings  is  never  eclipsed;  the  merit  of  its  Re- 
deemer's work  can  never  be  exhausted ;  the  human 
spirit  is  possessed  itself  of  an  undying  essence,  and 
therefore  this  life  of  life  lasts  for  ever.  The  lamp 
kindled  at  the  divine  radiance,  and  burning  so  near 
the  source  which  feeds  it,  can  never  be  extinguished. 
So  long  as  God  lives  and  dwells  in  love,  so  long 
shall  the  saved  spirit  live  in  Him,  and  dwell  in  His 
love.  This  is  the  high  end  of  believing  humanity 
—  an  end  so  godlike,  that  you  cannot  doubt  that 
God  has  designed  it,  and  prepared  you  for  it.  If 
there  was  love  beyond  measure  in  God's  gift  of  His 
Son,  is  there  not  also  afiection  beyond  parallel  in 
this  high  and  happy  purpose  realised  through  faith 
in  such  a  boon  ? 


god's  love  to  the  world.  85 

For  salvation  is  not  of  works.  Man  is  not  sum- 
moned to  some  stupendous  effort  in  order  to  win 
his  way  to  glory.  Kor  are  the  terms  of  the  divine 
law  lowered  in  order  that  he  may  he  ahle  to  comx_)ly. 
But  salvation  is  provided,  and  you  are  summoned 
to  accept  it.  The  blessing  is  ^  of  faith,  that  it  might 
he  by  grace  ;'  and  nothing  stands  between  you  and 
salvation,  but  your  own  unwillingness  to  take  it; 
nothing  between  you  and  heaven,  but  your  reluct- 
ance to  enter  it.  How,  then,  is  this  blessing  of  ever- 
lasting life  to  be  got  ?  It  is  not  flung  lavishly  and 
at  random  over  the  world,  nor  is  it  forced  upon  the 
acceptance  of  sinners.  They  are  not  compelled  to 
live,  nor  do  they  unconsciously  inhale  the  elements 
of  this  new  life.  Xo  ;  only  he  that  believeth  '  shall 
not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.'  Faith  is  the 
instrument  of  life.  Cordial  belief  in  Christ  Jesus, 
God's  own  gift,  brings  into  the  heart  the  first  pulsa- 
tions of  the  new  existence.  And  tell  me  why  should 
there  not  be  faith  ?  Why  should  not  God  get  credit 
for  His  love  ?  There  might  have  been  some  tremu- 
lous sensation,  if  that  love  had  been  described  as 
merely  resident  in  the  Divine  bosom ;  but  surely 
there  can  be  no  hesitation  when  you  see  it  embodied 
in  the  gift  of  Christ,  His  Son  —  so  loved  by  Him, 
and  so  like  Him ;  and  when  you  can  trace  it  in  its 
descent  to  earth,  and  see  the  babe  in  Bethlehem, 
scan  the  footprints  of  the  man  of  sorrows  and  sym- 
pathy, and  shudder  at  the  expiring  agony  of  the 
sufferer  on  Calvary.  Faith  in  Christ  is  requisite  for 
salvation  by  Him.     Whosoever  believeth   in  Him 


86  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

shall  not  perish.  Belief  in  Him,  as  the  manifesta- 
tion of  the  divine  love,  brings  you  within  the  sphere 
of  saving  influence.  It  shows  your  acquiescence  in 
God's  plan  of  salvation,  and  your  anxiety  to  avail 
yourselves  of  it.  Of  Christ's  ability  to  save,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  It  is  said  of  Him  in  this  gospel, 
that  '  by  Him  all  things  were  made  ;'  and  is  not  He 
that  created  the  universe  mighty  enough  to  redeem 
a  lost  soul?  The  arm  that  upholds  all  w^orlds  is 
surely  able  to  lift  a  human  spirit  out  of  misery  into 
glory.  Can  you  doubt  the  resources  of  that  Om- 
nipotence which,  amidst  all  its  astounding  opera- 
tions, '  fainteth  not,  neither  is  weary  ?'  And  as  is 
His  power,  so  is  His  will ;  the  persuasion  of  the  one 
must  be  as  strong  as  your  conviction  of  the  other. 
For  He  became  His  Father's  gift,  and  took  upon 
Him  man's  nature,  and  in  it  made  satisfaction.  If 
He  was  born  as  never  man  was  born,  spake  as  never 
man  spake,  acted  as  never  man  acted,  loved  as  never 
man  loved,  suffered  as  never  man  suffered,  and  died 
as  never  man  died  —  0  who  would  refuse  to  confide 
in  Him,  or  commit  to  Him  the  keeping  of  his  im- 
mortal soul !  AVhy  then  so  reluctant  to  have  faith 
in  Him ;  what  possible  motive  can  there  be  for 
doubt  ?  Surely  He  has  said  enough  and  done  enough 
to  quell  every  suspicion.  And  this  faith,  the  result 
of  divine  influence,  leads  to  the  acceptance  of  Him 
as  Saviour,  to  justification  by  His  blood,  and  sanc- 
tification  by  His  Spirit.  He  who  believeth  in  Him 
shall  not  perish,  but,  pardoned  and  purified  by  His 
grace,  shall  ascend  to  the  enjoyment  of  eternal  life. 


god's  love  to  the  world.  37 

But  who  may  possess  this  faith  ?  Is  any  one  de- 
barred ?  ISTo  :  '  Whosoever  believeth  in  Ilim  shall 
not  perish.'  Any  one  may  believe,  every  one  is 
summoned  to  believe,  no  matter  what  his  character, 
country,  rank,  or  age.  The  gospel  is  oftered  to  the 
world  without  discrimination.  It  has  no  national 
restriction,  no  geographical  peculiarity.  It  is  pre- 
sented, in  all  its  fulness,  to  '  mankind  sinners,  as  such.' 

And  thus,  through  the  love  of  God  and  His  infinite 
^\,  whosoever,  in  any  age,  believeth  on  Christ  shall 
not  perish,  but  shall  have  everlasting  life.  The  bless- 
ings of  salvation  were  not  all  given  away  in  the  early 
centuries.  The  myriads  saved  in  those  epochs  did 
neither  diminish  nor  exhaust  the  treasury  of  redemp- 
tion. The  love  of  God  and  the  gift  of  His  Son  have  a 
fulness  which  is  neither  emptied  by  time  nor  absorbed 
by  numbers ;  still  any  one  responding  to  the  invita- 
tion is  welcomed.  The  blood  shed  on  Calvary  has 
not  spent  its  virtue  on  the  hosts  which  already  have 
been  pardoned  and  purified  in  it.  Its  power  is  still 
as  fresh  as  when  the  thousands  at  Pentecost  were 
washed  in  it,  and  myriads  in  Antioch  and  Rome 
were  blessed  with  its  atoning  merit ;  as  when  the 
thief  saw  it  shed  on  the  cross,  and  the  beloved  dis- 
ciple declared  its  efficacy  to  cleanse  '  from  all  sin.' 
In  every  subsequent  period  the  same  truth  will  keep 
its  blessed  place,  and  down  to  the  last  moment  of 
time  shall  each  sinner  that  rests  on  Christ  be  ran- 
somed and  glorified. 

'Nay  more,  any  one  of  any  nation  believing  in 
Him  shall  not  perish,  but  be  saved.  It  was  a  son 
4 


38  THE    DIVIXE    LOVE. 

of  Abraham,  with  Jewish  blood  in  his  veins,  who 
died ;  but  His  atonement  has  an  efficacy  nnhmited 
by  race  or  country.  It  has  no  distinction  of  colour, 
clime,  or  language.  Wherever  fallen  humanity  is 
found,  it  receives  the  same  glorious  offer,  be  its  hue 
what  it  may,  and  no  matter  under  what  sky  it  may 
live  and  breathe.  The  Shemite  equally  with  the 
Hamite  —  the  savage  of  Africa,  no  less  than  the 
educated  European  —  he  wdth  the  chain,  and  he 
with  the  crown,  are  all  upon  a  level.  Every  man, 
even  though  he  be  a  demon  in  ferocity  or  a  brute 
in  sensuality;  every  living  man  —  a  man  on  earth 
and  not  in  hell,  is  warranted  to  seek  and  commanded 
to  accept  salvation.  Xo  one  is  excluded  b}^  position 
or  distance.  Yes,  thou  poor  Aztec,  stunted,  and 
but  the  semblance  of  a  man,  thou  too  art  welcome ; 
and  thou  bleeding  and  fettered  negro,  thou  art 
doubly  welcome,  for  He  came  to  '  proclaim  liberty 
to  the  captive,  and  the  opening  of  the  prison  to 
them  that  are  bound.' 

God  so  loved  the  world,  that  He  gave  His  only- 
begotten  Son,  that  any  one,  of  any  chara.cter,  be- 
lieving on  Him  might  not  perish.  Jesus  '  came  not 
to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners  to  repentance.' 
Classical  philosophy  and  religion  chased  away  the 
vulgar  and  poor,  and  concerned  themselves  only 
with  the  refined  and  virtuous.  But  Christ  does 
not  spurn  the  sinner.  His  blessings  are  not  only 
for  those  of  fairer  character  and  of  better  reputa- 
tion ;  they  are  for  sinners,  even  for  the  most  aban- 
doned.    0  yes  !    He  pardons  sins  without  number. 


god's  love  to  the  world.  39 

and  sinners  without  distinction.  If  any  are  speci- 
ally invited,  it  is  the  verj^  iinwortliy  —  the  utterly 
depraved.  'He  lifteth  the  poor  out  of  the  dung- 
hill, and  setteth  him  with  princes,  even  the  princes 
of  the  earth.'  0  how  many  such  triumphs  has  the 
gospel  witnessed !  Let  the  veriest  sinner  that 
breathes  turn  to  Christ,  and  he  shall  feel,  ay  and 
feel  at  once,  that  the  'blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleans- 
eth  from  all  sin.'  Who  then  can  despair  ?  Why 
not  believe  ?  Thou  art  not  placed  beyond  the  pale 
of  His  love.  Sunk  and  low,  proud  and  filthy  as 
thou  art  —  in  rags  and  vice,  the  devil  in  thy  heart, 
and  blasphemy  on  thy  tongue,  thou  art  the  object 
of  the  love  of  God  most  high.  Christ  was  thy 
brother;  and  that  loving  brother's  blood  was  shed 
that  thou  mightest  believe  and  live.  Thou  art  not 
cast  off;  the  heart  that  bled  for  thee  still  yearns  over 
thee.  Feel  this  —  how  can  you  but  feel  it  —  and 
be  saved.  We  proclaim  a  gospel  of  infinite  merit 
and  universal  adaptation.  The  annals  of  the  church 
are  filled  with  examples  of  the  conversion  of  the 
biggest  sinners.  '  Such  were  some  of  you,'  says  the 
apostle  to  the  church  at  Corinth  —  sinners  indeed 
above  many  —  '  but  ye  are  washed,  but  ye  are  sanc- 
tified, but  ye  are  justified  in  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  and  by  the  Spirit  of  our  God.'  Sliould  there 
be  a  contest  in  heaven  as  to  who  is  most  indebted 
to  the  love  of  Jehovah,  the  claim  will  be  awarded 
not  to  the  '  babe  thither  caught  from  womb  and 
breast,'  Avhose  earl}'  death  prevented  its  pollution 
by  the  world ;  but  to  him  who  could  say,  '  I  was  a 


40  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

persecutor,  a  blasphemer,  and  injurious ;'  to  "him 
who  had  been  a  paragon  of  depravity ;  to  him  who 
had  lived  like  Xewton,  and  blasphemed  like  Bun- 
yan :  to  him  who  had  revelled  in  the  darkness  and 
impiety  of  the  night,  ere  the  blessed  morning  burst 
upon  him.  Yours  was  a  noted  example  on  earth, 
and  yours  is  a  thrilling  song  in  glory ;  your  crown 
is  brightest  among  the  bright,  and  3'our  harp  has  a 
melody  all  its  own.  Among  many  wonderful  tro- 
phies, surpassing  wonder  attaches  to  you  ;  ye  know 
more  than  most  the  tenderness  of  the  divine  heart, 
and  the  might  of  the  divine  arm.  Christ  has  shown 
in  you  'a  pattern  of  all  long-suffering;'  and  the 
Lord,  of  His  infinite  mercy,  grant  that  we  may  rightly 
appreciate  it  and  savingly  profit  b}^  it. 

Yea,  in  fine,  God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave 
His  only-begotten  Son,  that  any  one,  at  any  period 
of  life,  believing  on  Him  might  not  perish.  The 
young  are  welcomed:  'He  took  children  in  his 
arms  and  blessed  them ;'  but  the  old  are  not  placed 
under  a  ban.  At  any  instant  of  any  day,  or  month, 
or  year,  may  the  soul  believe.  The  divine  love 
never  sleeps,  and  it  is  no  intermittent  emotion.  At 
Bethesda,  only  one,  and  he  the  first  one  who  step- 
ped into  the  pool,  was  healed ;  but  the  whole  band 
of  invalids  may  all  bathe  in  this  fountain,  and  each 
in  his  turn  will  be  saved.  Its  waters  need  no 
periodical  stirring,  for  they  possess  a  perennial 
efficacy.  Seventy  years  may  have  passed  over  the 
impenitent  sinner,  and  all  that  God  has  done  for 
him  may  have  been  wantonly  despised,    and  yet, 


god's  love  to  the  avorld.  41 

should  Lis  spirit  look  to  Jesns,  a  full  forgiveness 
will  be  at  once  conferred.  Yes,  even  at  the  last  and 
solemn  hour,  and  ere  the  heart  cease  its  pulsations, 
it  may  find  the  preciousness  of  Christ.  Its  last  look 
may  be  to  the  cross,  and  its  last  syllables,  lost  yet 
saved,  may  be,  I  believe  ...  in  Christ.  But  yet 
this  last  hour  is  not  to  be  trusted  to ;  for  you  can- 
not tell  when  it  may  come.  The  ninth  hour  ap- 
proaches, the  tenth  hour  is  numbered,  the  eleventh 
hour  strikes,  and,  ere  you  are  aware,  the  twelfth 
hour  tolls,  and  you  are  hurried  into  a  lost  and  un- 
done eternit}'. 

How  now  shall  we  tell  the  immensity  of  this  love, 
and  the  indescribable  value  of  this  gift,  when  their 
glorious  end  is  contemplated — the  salvation  of  sin- 
ners, of  every  age  and  country,  of  every  character 
and  period  of  life  !  What  bosom  but  that  of  God's 
could  contain  such  an  emotion  ;  what  gift  but  that 
of  Christ  could  have  realised  such  blessed  conse- 
quences !  Whatever  be  the  special  relation  of  the 
love  of  Christ  to  His  church,*  this  is  the  general 
aspect  of  the  love  of  God  to  the  world — His  '  man- 
love,'  as  it  has  been  termed  by  the  apostle.  (Titus 
iii.  4.)  It  has  made  provision  for  an  indiscriminate 
and  universal  offer  of  the  gospel,  and  it  secures  the 
salvation  of  all  who  will  accept  it.  What  more 
shall  we  say,  or  can  we  say,  to  induce  you  to  '  be- 
lieve on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ?'  Trifle  not  with 
time  and  invitation.     Perplex  not  your  spirits  with 

*  See  Discourse  II. 


42  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

theories  about  the  nature  and  origin  of  faith.  The 
question  is  not,  how  you  believe,  but  what  you  be- 
lieve ;  the  value  of  your  belief  depends  upon  its 
object  and  foundation.  'I  believe  ;  help  thou  mine 
unbelief.'  You  may  believe  much  of  no  immediate 
practical  value  —  the  devil  believes  the  theoretic 
truth ;  but  you  are  summoned  to  credit  the  state- 
ment of  our  text  —  this  divine  record,  which  forms 
the  very  pith  and  marrow  of  the  gospel. 

With  what  rapturous  feelings  the  idea  of  this  love 
should  fill  us,  and  with  what  fervent  gratitude  should 
we  respond  to  it !  With  what  prolonged  hosannas 
should  we  hail  the  advent  of  Christ,  and  w^hat  un- 
wavering confidence  should  we  repose  in  Him  ! 
And  if  it  be  that  we  have  ruined  ourselves  beyond 
self-recovery,  how  shall  w^e  admire  the  divine  plan 
of  restoration ;  for  He  that  made  the  world,  saves 
it ;  He  against  whom  it  had  sinned,  gave  His  Son 
to  redeem  it.  But  yet  if  you  do  not  avail  your- 
selves of  these  blessed  provisions ;  if  this  love  do 
not  move  you,  and  this  gift  do  not  satisfy  you,  and 
this  faith  do  not  fill  you  —  then  the  hazard  is  terri- 
ble ;  for  your  original  ruin  will  have  a  new  aggra- 
vation, in  your  rejection  of  God's  helping  hand.  If 
you  do  not  accept  God's  salvation,  having  such  an 
origin  and  instrumentality,  and  if  the  universe  can- 
not present  you  with  any  other,  then  you  must 
perish  in  your  wantonness  and  crime.  And  that 
will  be  not  because  there  is  no  pity  for  you,  and  no 
one  car^s  for  you  ;  for  God  loves  you,  and  the  ten- 
derness of  a  mother's  love  is  not  equal  to  His.     l^or 


cod's  love  to  the  world.  43 

will  it  be  because  there  is  no  deliverance  provided ; 
for  the  bosom  of  God  is  emptied  of  His  only  Son, 
and  He  loved  yon,  wept  over  you,  and  died  for  you. 
JSTeither  will  it  be  because  you  are  placed  in  circum- 
stances which  bar  out  the  power  of  the  gospel ;  for 
no  one  is  frowned  upon,  and  every  one  may  turn, 
believe,  and  live.  Will  you  madly  wrestle  against 
your  happiness,  and  resolve  to  perisli  in  spite  of  all 
this  love  felt  for  you,  and  all  this  provision  made  for 
3^ou  ?  "What  other  help  could  you  covet  ?  Could  you 
imagine  a  more  ardent  love,  or  a  more  glorious  de- 
liverance ?  Could  heaven  be  brought  nearer  to  earth 
than  it  has  been,  or  could  the  heart  of  God  be  more 
truly  laid  bare  before  you  ?  Shall  you  then  doubt — 
doubt  of  His  love — as  He  points  to  the  cross  and  to 
His  bleeding  Son  ?  0  it  is  provoking  to  a  fellow- 
creature  to  have  his  word  doubted  and  his  veracity 
suspected ;  how  much  more  so  to  the  most  true  God  ! 
There  is  nothing  that  brings  such  vexation  and  dis- 
appointment to  a  benefactor  as  to  see  his  good  in- 
tentions misunderstood,  and  the  very  benignity  of 
bis  purpose  called  in  question ;  and  what  must  God 
feel  when  His  love  makes  no  impression  on  you, 
and  you  refuse  to  give  Him  any  credit  for  His  de- 
claration of  it  ?  Can  you  commit  a  sin  more  wound- 
ing to  Him  after  what  He  has  said  and  done,  one 
that  so  pointedly  insults  Him,  and  that  so  awfully 
ruins  yourselves?  Such  unbelief  hardening  itself 
against  such  love  must  meet  with  very  signal  pun- 
ishment, for  it  at  once  wooes  and  warrants  its  fright- 
ful and  aggravated  doom.     Do  homage,  we  there- 


44  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

fore  coiajure  you,  to  this  love ;  extol  it,  and  accept 
its  mighty  gift,  and,  according  to  the  pledge  of  the 
text,  you  shall  be  saved.  And  the  end  shall  at 
length  be  reached,  and  your  perfected  natures  will 
pour  out  their  grateful  melodies  in  honour  of  this 
unceasing  love,  and  in  perpetual  view  of  Him  whose 
mission  was  its  unexampled  fruit.  Then,  indeed, 
of  the  truth  and  blessedness  of  this  verse  your  own 
experience  in  heaven  will  be  a  living,  glorious,  and 
eternal  illustration. 


Christ's  love  to  the  church.  45 


LECTTJKE  II. 


the   love   of   CHRIST   TO    HIS    CHURCH  —  ITS   FERVOUR 

AND  SELF-SACRIFICE ITS  NEARER  PURPOSE  AND  ITS 

ULTIMATE  RESULT. 

Ephesians  v.  25-27. 

*  Christ  also  loved  the  church,  and  gave  himself  for  it;  that  he 
might  sanctify  and  cleanse  it  loith  the  ivashing  of  water  hy  the 
uiord  ;  that  he  inight  present  it  to  himself  a  glorious  churchy 
not  having  spot,  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing.' 

Our  last  discourse  was  an  attempt  to  illustrate 
God's  love  to  the  world  —  this  is  intended  to  de- 
scribe Christ's  love  to  His  church.  The  emotion 
now  to  be  reviewed  is,  therefore,  the  inner  love  of 
the  Redeemer  towards  His  own.  In  the  former 
case,  the  love  of  God  was  seen  to  be  broad,  full,  and 
indiscriminate,  shining  on  the  world  like  its  sun,  or 
enveloping  the  world  like  its  atmosphere ;  in  the 
presenl^case,  the  Saviour's  love  will  be  found  to  bo 
deep,  ardent,  and  saving,  but  regarded  as  exercised 
toward  those  who  have  been  or  are  to  be  justified 
by  the  blood  and  sanctified  by  the  Spirit  of  its  glo- 
rious possessor.  For,  as  the  solar  beam  often  falls 
upon  a  hard  and  barren  rock,  and  often  nurses 
weeds  and  noxious  herbage ;  and  as  the  atmosphere 


46  THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 

socks  from  the  morass  into  its  bosom  the  elements 
of  pestilence  and  death :  so  the  love  of  God  fre- 
quently hardens  where  it  is  meant  to  bless ;  the 
reckless  spirit  presumes  upon  it,  and  becomes  still 
more  defiant  in  its  tone  and  more  resolute  in  its  un- 
belief. But  the  Saviour's  love  to  His  own,  works 
out  its  destined  purpose ;  it  has  chosen  and  formed 
the  church,  and  will  glorify  itself  in  it.  For  is  not 
that  church  the  great  company  of  the  redeemed  — 
confined  to  no  age  or  country,  no  class  or  character 
—  the  whole  host  of  all  who  are,  or  are  to  be  ran- 
somed and  glorified  ?  l^o  wonder  that  Jesus  loved 
this  bright  assemblage,  the  entire  circle  of  which 
was  present  from  eternity  to  His  all-sweeping  eye. 
When  He  regards  this  church,  and  thinks  of  its 
origin  and  safety.  He  calls  it,  as  He  alone  is  entitled 
to  do,  'those  whom  thou  hast  given  me;'  but  when 
we  survey  it,  and  think  of  its  distinctive  character, 
we  name  it,  the  band  of  believers,  disciples  or  bre- 
thren in  Christ. 

But  this  company,  no  matter  how  bright  and  joy- 
ous its  destin3',^had  no  more  claim  on  the  attach- 
ment of  Christ  than  tlie  world  had  on  the  love  of 
God.  The  church  was  originally  in  the  world  and 
of  it,  though  in  God's  grace  it  is  taken  out  of  it. 
Helpless  and  exposed  it  lay,  till  His  fond  and  pity- 
ing eye  looked  and  loved.  It  w^as  no  better  than 
the  world,  and  it  was  no  superior  worth  that  at- 
tracted Christ  to  it,  no  singular  or  exceptional  love- 
liness that  originated  his  aftection.  Scan  the  roll 
of  its  members,  and  you  will  find  among  them  men 


Christ's  love  to  the  church.  47 

who  had  been  specimens  of  daring  impiety  and  fero- 
cious guilt,  even  the  chief  of  sinners.  For  what 
says  the  apostle  to  the  early  churches :  'AH  have 
sinned,  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God.'  '  Sin 
has  reigned  to  death.'  'When  we  were  enemies, 
we  were  reconciled.'  '  Ye  were  the  servants  of  sin.' 
The  Ephesian  church  had  been  '  dead  in  trespasses 
and  sins ;'  '  aliens  from  the  commonwealth  of  Israel, 
strangers  from  the  covenants,  having  no  hope,  and 
without  God  in  the  world.'  'They  fulfilled  the  de- 
sires of  the  flesh  and  of  the  mind,  and  were  children 
of  wrath.'  'Ye  were  sometimes  darkness.'  These 
are  but  a  sample  of  the  clauses  of  that  indictment 
which  hangs  over  every  member  of  the  human 
family,  and  from  which  those  who  compose  the 
church  are  in  no  sense  or  form  by  nature  exempted. 
In  this  passage  we  have  the  great  theme,  the  love 
of  Christ  —  the  proof  and  result  of  that  love  in  His 
death  —  the  nearer  intention  of  that  love^and  death 
in  the  sanctification  of  His  Church,  and  their  ulte- 
rior purpose  in  the  final  glorification  of  His  Church. 

I.  The  Love  of  Christ  to  His  Church. 

'  Christ  loved  the  church.'  What  else  than  love 
could  have  selected,  pardoned,  purified,  and  re- 
deemed the  church  ?  What  other  feeling  could  have 
stooped  to  such  guilt,  and  raised  it  to  such  glory? 
To  what  other  attribute  in  the  nature  of  God  could 
the  apostle  have  appealed  ?  What  other  divine  pro- 
perty could  have  formed  such  a  conception,  and 
carried  it  out  at  so  awful  a  sacrifice ;  would  have 


48  THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 

come  into  the   lowest   depths,  touched  what  is  so 
leprous  and  impure,  beautified  it,  and  carried  it  up 
in  its  bosom  to  unending  felicity?     An   idea  like 
that  of  our  salvation,  so  rich,  glorious,  and  free,  be- 
ginning on  earth,  and  ending  in  heaven,  could  only 
spring  out  of  infinite  love.     And  this  love  was  no 
incidental  emotion,  excited  for  the  first  time  by  the 
view  of  human  helplessness  and  guilt.     Even  when 
He  lay  in  His  Father's  bosom,  His  thoughts  were 
thoughts  of  love  —  even  then  ^  He  rejoiced  in  the 
habitable  parts  of  the  earth.'     As  every  one  feels, 
we  naturally  associate  ideas  of  height  and  splendour 
with  heaven,  the  place  of  His  past  abode.     The 
glory  of  God  fills  it.     His  throne  is  in  it,  and  sheds 
all  around  it  its  royal  radiance.     It  is  the  residence 
of  the  great  Architect,  fitted  up  for  Himself  with 
dazzling  splendour.     'No  taint  of  sin  is  there.     The 
image  of  Jehovah  enshrines  itself  in  every  heart. 
"Wherever  He  looks.  He  sees  the  happy  reflection 
of  Himself;  and  His  heart  is  regaled,  and  His  ear 
is  ever  filled  with  melody  from  the  highest  creatures. 
For  angels  dwell  there,  and  they  are  the  noblest 
specimens  of  divine  workmanship  —  of  vast  mind, 
prodigious  power,  and  incredible  swiftness  ;  so  like 
*  gods,'  as  to  be  called  so  in  scripture.    And  yet  the 
Son  of  God,  looking  beyond  all  this  magnificence 
strewn  through  heaven,  and  all  this  homage  pre- 
sented to  Himself,  and  gazing  down  through  the 
blazing  train  of  worlds  that  swept  around  His  throne, 
could  thus  tell  what  were  His  emotions  even  in  the 
depths  of  a  bygone  eternity,  when  He  utters  the 


Christ's  love  to  the  church.  49 

woiulroiis  avowal,  'My  doliglits  were  with  tlie  sons 
of  men.'  Ay,  and  tbougli  the  certainty  of  His  own 
death  was  present  to  his  mind,  death  involving  such 
spiritual  anguish  and  corporeal  torture ;  and  though 
those  for  whom  He  died  were  to  nail  Him  to  the 
tree,  spurn  His  claims,  and  requite  His  kindness 
with  unbelief  and  hostilit}^  He  flinched  not,  but 
loved  and  bled  for  guilty,  and  ungrateful  humanity. 
Was  it  not,  therefore,  an  eternal  affection?  and  if  it 
had  no  beginning,  it  can  have  no  boundary,  and  it 
shall  have  no  termination.  Who  shall  gauge  its 
fervour  ?  What  plummet  shall  sound  the  infinitude 
of  the  Divine  bosom  ?  As  a  divine  love  to  a  crea- 
ture so  far  beneath  Him,  what  matchless  condescen- 
sion there  is  in  it !  as  the  love  of  a  holy  God  toward 
oflcnding  creatures,  does  not  the  contrast  proclaim 
its  gracious  tenderness  and  strength  ? 

'  Christ  loved  the  church.'  But,  in  fact,  to  know  the 
power  and  depth  of  the  love  of  Christ,  surpasses  the 
limits  of  created  intellect.  It  has  a  height,  and  w^e 
cannot  climb  it ;  a  depth,  and  we  cannot  explore  it ; 
a  breadth,  and  we  cannot  grasp  it ;  a  length,  and  we 
cannot  compute  it.  Is  it  not  infinite  as  its  Author, 
and  changeless  and  everlasting  as  the  heart  in  which 
it  has  its  home  ?  Men  may  fancy  what  they  cannot 
express,  and  feel  what  they  are  unable  to  describe ;  but 
on  this  momentous  topic  inabilit}^  attaches  to  heart 
as  well  as  tongue,  to  thought  no  less  than  language. 
0  !  do  we  not  see  in  the  incarnate  Lord  a  pure  and 
fervent  love  assuming  a  nature  of  clay,  feeding  the 
hungry,  taming  the  demoniac,  sympathising  with  the 
5 


50  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

wretched,  bleeding  on  the  cross,  and  prostrate  in  the 
tomb!  And  we  must  not  contemplate  its  mere 
I  warmth,  but  also  its  illustrious  harmony  wiih  the 
sterner  attributes  of  the  Godhead.  It  is  a  love  of  the 
sinner,  but  it  attempts  no  compromise  with  his  sin. 
In  its  outflow  toward  us,  it  neither  prostrates  holi- 
ness nor  bribes  justice,  but  throws  such  a  moral 
lustre  over  these  attributes,  as  to  reveal  more  truly 
their  unchanged  and  original  purity  and  brilliance. 
'  Christ  loved  the  church.'  But  that  love  was  no 
inert  emotion.  It  did  not  lie  in  a  waveless  calm 
within  Him.  Isov  was  it  a  divine  luxury  on  which 
He  feasted,  without  leaving  heaven  and  laying  aside 
the  robes  of  His  majesty.  'No.  He  felt  its  keen 
impulses,  descended  from  the  throne,  left  the  halle- 
lujahs of  angels,  and  threw  the  mantle  of  our  man- 
hood over  His  higher  nature  —  became  one  of  our- 
selves ;  and  all  from  love  to  us.  We  have  no  means 
of  enabling  us  to  calculate  the  depths  of  His  con- 
descension, when  in  love  to  us  He  became  man,  and 
in  order  to  suffer  for  us.  AVere  a  creature,  even  the 
highest  and  loveliest  of  heaven,  to  leave  its  station 
and  descend  to  our  world,  the  degrees  of  this 
humiliation  might  be  counted  and  measured.  For 
though  he  exchanged  heaven  for  earth,  and  the  free 
and  buoyant  energies  of  a  spiritual  nature  for  the 
tardy  motions  and  limited  capabilities  of  an  animal 
frame,  and  unlimited  range  of  travel  from  orb  to 
orb  for  a  stationary  residence  on  this  the  meanest 
of  planets ;  even  then,  with  all  this  extraordinary 
contrast,  the  various  steps  of  such  a  descent  might 


Christ's  love  to  the  church.  51 

he  meted  in  depth  and  computed  in  number.  But 
between  the  loftiest  intelligence  and  Him  who  sits 
upon  the  throne  as  the  Son  of  God,  there  is  the 
immeasurable  interval  of  iufinitude,  and  none  'can 
by  searching  find'  it  out.  The  distance  from  the 
highest  point  in  creation  to  the  lowest,  may  be  in- 
vestigated and  reduced  to  a  scale,  but,  at  an  unap- 
proachable height  above  all  creation,  sat  He  who 
loved  the  church,  and  came  down  to  save  it. 

^  Christ  loved  the  church,'  and  He  walked  in  that 
church  in  the  radiance  of  love.  Thoughts  of  love 
nestled  in  His  heart ;  words  of  love  lingered  on 
His  lips  ;  deeds  of  love  flew  from  His  arm ;  and  His 
steps  left  behind  them  the  impress  of  love.  It 
threw  its  soft  halo  over  His  cradle  at  Bethlehem, 
and  it  fringed  with  its  mdlow  splendours  the  gloom 
of  the  cloud  under  which  He  expired  on  Calvary. 
It  gave  edge  to  His  reproofs,  and  pathos  to  His  in- 
vitations. It  was  the  magnet  that  guided  Him  in 
all  his  wanderings.  It  bound  Him  to  the  cross  and 
held  Him  there,  and  not  the  iron  nails  that  pierced 
His  hands  and  His  feet.  It  thrilled  in  His  bosom, 
and  glistened  in  His  eye.  Yes  ;  '  Christ  .  .  .  Love,' 
said  the  dying  philosopher,*  'Jesus  Christ — love — 
the  same  thing.'  It  prompted  Him  to  impart  mi- 
raculous aid  on  every  opportunit}^  His  meekness 
was  but  one  of  its  features.  It  clothed  itself  in  for- 
giveness towards  His  enemies,  and  its  last  pulsation 
was  in  a  prayer  for  His  murderers.     It  was  the  spi- 


*  Sir  James  Mackintosh. 


52  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

ritual  atmosphere  in  which  lie  lived,  moved,  and 
had  His  being.  There  was  love  to  His  mother,  love 
to  His  kinsfolk,  love  to  His  country,  love  to  His 
disciples,  love  to  His  enemies,  love  to  the  church, 
and  love  to  the  wide,  w^ide  world.  And  all  this 
love  had  His  own  for  its  central  object,  round 
whom  it  ever  hovered  with  sleepless  tenderness  and 
assiduity. 

'  Christ  loved  the  church ;'  but  those  exhibitions 
of  love  during  His  life  are  eclipsed  by  the  displays 
of  it  in  His  death.  It  shines  out  with  novel  charms 
amidst  the  shades  of  dissolution,  for  it  shrunk  not 
from  the  shame  and  woe  of  the  cross.  There  is  a 
form  of  friendship  in  the  world  which  scarcely  de- 
serves the  name.  It  fawns  upon  and  fondles  the 
prosperous,  but  flees  and  spurns  the  victims  of  ad- 
versity. At  its  highest  warmth  it  but  evaporates  in 
w^ords,  the  fulsome  incense  of  flattery  being  its  only 
product.  But  the  Saviour's  love  to  His  church  w^as 
no  mere  profession,  no  verbal  attachment.  From 
heaven  it  came  down  to  earth,  and  from  divine  im- 
mortalit}^  to  human  pains  and  dissolution.  Abase- 
ment did  not  repress  its  impulses,  hostility  did  not 
freeze  its  ardour,  and  the  most  terrible  prospect 
which  an  omniscient  fancy  could  depict  neither 
abated  its  zeal  nor  subdued  its  courage.  For  the 
Saviour  loved  the  church ;  and  to  give  her  the  best 
of  all  proofs  of  the  depth  and  sincerity  of  that  love, 
He  gave  Himself  for  the  church. 

The  strength  and  the  sacrifices  of  love  are  indeed 
proverbial.     Dangers   incredible   are   treated   with 


CHRIST'S    LOVE   TO   THE    CHURCH.  53 

disdain,  and  enterprises  which  the  sobriety  of  rea- 
son would  be  apt  to  pronounce  impracticable  are 
achieved  with  easy  celerity.  But  man  shrinks  from 
death.  lie  may  suiter  many  things,  subject  him- 
self to  many  privations,  and  conquer  appalUng 
difficulties ;  but  he  starts  at  the  idea  of  death. 
*  Scarcely  for  a  righteous  man  will  one  die  ;  yet  per- 
adventure  for  a  good  man  some  would  even  dare  to 
die.  But  God  commendeth  his  love  towards  us,  in 
that,  while  we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us.' 
The  '  righteous  man'  is  one  who  is  of  sterling  in- 
tegrity, whose  word  is  his  bond,  whose  sovereign 
rule  in  all  things  is  equity,  who  pa^^s  to  the  last  far- 
thing what  he  owes,  and  exacts  to  the  last  farthing 
what  is  due  to  himself.  He  is  more  revered  than 
loved  —  men  stand  in  awe  of  him;  and  scarcely 
will  one  die  for  him.  The  'good  man'  is  righteous, 
but  he  is  more  —  he  is  not  only  just,  but  kind  ;  not 
only  equitable,  but  obliging ;  full  of  generosity  and 
good  deeds ;  and  he  is  so  admired  and  loved  that, 
in  the  bond  of  friendship,  '  perad venture  some  one 
would  even  dare  to  die'  for  him.  But  we  had 
neither  the  one  character  nor  the  other.  Righteous- 
ness and  goodness  were  alike  wanting  in  us ;  we 
were  *  sinners,'  'enemies,'  'without  strength,'  de- 
formed by  impurity,  when  the  Divine  love  not  only 
displayed,  but  '  commended'  itself  in  the  death  of 
Christ  for  ns.  In  His  love,  Christ  gave  Himself  for, 
or  in  room  of  the  church.  The  language  is  sacri- 
ficial, and  denotes  that  the  death  of  Christ  was  a 
voluntary  and  a  proper  propitiation. 
5* 


54  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

11.  The  Sacrifice,  as  the  Expression  and  Eesult 
OF  Love. 

In  the  stead  of  tlie  churcli  He  died,  to  deliver  her 
from  death,  the  sentence  which  so  righteously  lay 
upon  her.  The  death  of  the  Son  of  God  is  a  true 
and  mighty  sacrifice.  That  death  might  be  viewed 
in  a  variety  of  aspects  ;  for  while  it  was  an  instance 
of  exalted  bravery,  and  a  confirmation  of  His  sin- 
cere attachment  to  men,  it  was  also  an  example  to 
all  His  followers,  inspiring  them  with  that  patience 
which  they  must  evince  during  their  lives,  and  with 
that  calmness  and  fortitude  which  must  not  forsake 
them  even  in  the  hour  of  trial  and  dissolution. 
But  it  was  more  than  a  tragedy  or  a  martyrdom. 
To  suppose  the  Saviour  to  be  the  victim  of  human 
persecution  is  true,  but  to  suppose  Him  nothing 
more,  is  but  to  give  an  ordinary  termination  to  His 
extraordiuary  existence.  In  what,  if  he  only  sealed 
his  testimony  with  His  blood,  does  He  differ  from 
apostles  and  prophets,  who  loved  not  their  lives 
even  unto  the  death  ?  In  what  respects,  on  this 
hypothesis,  is  the  death  of  the  Son  of  Mary,  who 
was  crucified,  of  more  honour  and  value  than  that 
of  the  son  of  Elizabeth,  who  was  beheaded  ?  How 
many  since  Christ's  time  have  bled  and  been  burned 
for  the  church  —  how  many  of  the  prophets  of  Is- 
rael were  put  to  death  by  their  apostate  nation ;  yet 
which  of  all  these  is  ever  said  to  have  given  him- 
self to  God,  or  to  have  died  in  our  stead,  or  to  have 
been  the  propitiation  for  our  sin  ?     But  the  death 


Christ's  love  to  the  ciiurch.  55 

of  Jesns  was  an  oblation:  'Ho  loved  lis,  and  gave 
himself  for  us,  an  offering  and  a  sacrifice  to  God  for 
a  sweet-smelling  savour.' 

The  central  idea  of  a  sacrifice  is  vicarious  suffer- 
ing. Piacular  victims  have  been  frequent  in  all 
ages,  as  guilt  is  a  load  upon  the  conscience  which 
no  efforts  can  shake  off",  and  the  heathen,  under 
this  impulse,  stained  the  altar  with  human  blood. 
In  no  other  way  could  sacrifices  ease  the  conscience 
of  the  worshippers,  than  hy  being  supposed  to  bear 
the  penalty  due  to  their  guilt.  The  victim  was  ac- 
counted guilty,  and  punished  as  such.  It  was  offered 
in  the  room,  and  made  expiation  for  the  sin,  of  the 
offender.  '  So  Christ  was  once  offered  to  bear  the 
sin  of  many.'  And  it  is  this  quality  which  gives 
its  solitary  eminence  to  His  death,  and  not  the 
wicked  means  by  which  it  was  effected,  nor  yet  the 
patient  magnanimity  with  which  it  was  endured. 
A  violated  law  had  uttered  its  curse,  the  sentence 
bad  gone  forth  and  must  be  executed,  and  the  moral 
administration  of  the  universe  was  deeply  involved 
in  the  result ;  and  therefore  the  Saviour  died  that 
sin  might  be  punished,  and  that  the  government 
issuing  forgiveness  might  be  confirmed  in  the  very 
act  of  it,  and  that  a  more  brilliant  and  impressive 
demonstration  of  the  holiness  of  God  should  be  af- 
forded in  the  pardon  of  sin  than  if  man  had  never 
fallen,  or  having  fallen,  should  himself  be  visited 
with  the  full  infliction  of  the  penalty.  In  conse- 
quence of  this  self-exposure  for  us,  his  severest  an- 
iruish  was  that  of  his  soul.     0  !  it  was  not  shame, 


56  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

persecution,  or  criicilixioii,  for  these  terrible  ele- 
ments could  have  been  easily  borne  ;  it  was  not  the 
rage  and  malice  of  Satan  —  these  also  could  have 
been  trampled  on  ;  but  it  was  the  endurance  in  Him- 
self of  the  punishment  due  to  that  sin  which  He 
had  taken  upon  Him,  that  drank  up  His  spirit, 
prompted  the  moan  in  Gethsemaue,  and  the  mys- 
terious complaint  on  Calvary.  The  '  silver  cord' 
was  loosed,  and  the  '  golden  bowl'  was  broken  by 
the  ruthless  violence  of  His  persecutors  ;  but  '  the 
travail  of  His  soul'  was  induced  by  vicarious  pangs. 
It  is  the  uniform  testimony  of  Scripture  that  He 
'  suifered  once  for  sins' — that  ^  He  who  knew  no  sin 
became  sin  for  us' — that  'we  are  justified  by  his 
blood'  —  that  '  the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was 
upon  Him' — that  '  He  offered  himself  without  spot 
to  God'  —  and  that  '  His  blood  cleanseth  from  all 
sin.'  And  in  that  world  where  theology  is  perfect, 
redemption  is  ascribed  not  to  the  birth  of  Christ 
with  its  mysteries,  nor  to  the  miracles  of  Christ  with 
their  splendour,  nor  to  the  life  of  Christ  with  its 
holy  beauty,  but  only  to  His  death :  '  Thou  art 
worthy  to  take  the  book,  and  to  loose  the  seals 
thereof;  for  thou  wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed  us 
to  God  b}^  thy  blood.'  Thus  did  the  Incarnation 
of  love  enter  alone  into  that  ominous  cloud  which, 
charged  with  terrible  thunder,  hung  over  our  guilty 
race,  and  He  gathered  in  upon  Himself  its  dark  and 
destructive  elements ;  and  the  cloud,  now  bereft  of 
them,  assumes  a  hue  of  glory,  and  weeps  itself  away 
in  soft  and  fertilising  showers.     Who  can  estimate 


chuist's  love  to  the  church.  57 

the  depth  and  fervour  of  a  love  which  gave  itself  to 
such  agonies,  laid  itself  on  the  altar  a  perfect  ohla- 
tion,  suffered  that  we  should  not  suffer,  and  died 
that  we  might  live  ? 

For  in  His  love  He  gave  Himself.  It  was  no  in- 
ferior gift  He  selected,  for  no  inferior  gift  could  be 
the  adequate  expression  of  His  love.  It  found  no 
donation  worthy  of  itself  but  Himself  It  would 
be  content  with  nothing  else,  and  nothing  less. 
The  Divine  Lover  gave  Himself  The  fires  of 
Lebanon  to  consume  the  '  cattle  upon  a  thousand 
hills;'  the  lightnings  of  Jehovah  to  reduce  the  uni- 
verse to  ashes, — these  could  not  suffice  to  redeem  a 
world.  A  Being  originally  above  the  law,  and 
placed  voluntarily  by  Himself  beneath  it,  only  He 
can  so  obey  it  as  to  satisfy  it,  and  so  suffer  its  penalty 
as  to  Hberate  from  it  the  original  transgressor.  His 
obedience  and  suffering  are  not  for  Himself,  since 
the  law  has  no  claim  upon  Him,  and  the  merit  of 
his  voluntary  sacrifice  is  made  over  to  those  who 
could  neither  obey  nor  suffer  for  themselves.  K"ot 
that  God  does  or  can  suffer ;  but  the  humanity  of 
Jesus  was  one  in  person  with  divinity,  and  the  union 
was  not  dissolved  by  the  agony  upon  the  cross. 
"What  an  amazing  gift !  Himself —  the  Son  of  God 
—  in  earnest  and  loving  self-sacrifice.  Surely  the 
voice  of  the  Redeemer's  love  speaks  in  thrilling  ac- 
cents from  the  cross.  That  patient  and  holy  victim 
suft'ered  as  never  being  suffered — that  pure  and  sus- 
ceptible heart  was  wrung  as  never  heart  was  wrung ; 


68  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

and  all  to  convince  you  of  His  love,  and  confer 
upon  you  its  choice  and  saving  blessings. 

*  Ah  never,  never  canst  thou  know, 
What,  then,  for  thee  the  Saviour  bore, 
The  pangs  of  that  mysterious  woe, 
That  wrung  His  frame  at  every  pore — 
The  weight  that  press'd  upon  His  brow, 
The  fever  of  His  bosom's  core. 

*  Yes,  man  for  man  perchance  may  brave 
The  horrors  of  the  yawning  grave ; 
And  friend  for  friend,  or  child  for  sire, 
Undaunted  and  unmoved  expire, 

From  love,  or  piety,  or  pride. 
But  who  can  die  as  Jesus  died?' 

Himself,  too,  was  both  priest  and  victim  —  He 
gave  Himself.  Unlike  the  Jewish  pontiff.  He  did 
not  stretch  some  other  vi'ctim  on  the  altar,  nor  was 
He  laid  there  Himself  by  the  hand  of  any  officiating 
minister.  In  sovereign  generosity  and  heroism  He 
offered  Himself.  And  it  was  a  solitary  act.  It 
needs  no  repetition.  Its  atoning  merit  can  never 
be  exhausted.  '  It  is  appointed  unto  men  once  to 
die,'  says  the  apostle  ;  that  is,  our  nature  can  only 
die  once — and  therefore  Christ's  real  humanitj^  is 
proof  of  the  oneness  of  His  death.  That  one  death 
has  infinite  merit.  Repeated  oblations,  under  the 
law,  were  confessions  of  inefficacy.  The  atonement 
of  the  day  had  only  an  expiatorj-  value  of  twelve 
months,  and  the  scene  was  re-enacted  every  year  — 
there  was  an  annual  propitiation  and  sprinkling  of 


CHRIST'S    LOVE    TO    THE    CHURCH.  59 

blood.  But  Jesus  'suffered  once  for  sin.'  The 
high  priest  remained  but  a  few  mysterious  moments 
in  front  of  the  mercj-seat  and  the  Divine  presence 
ere  he  re-passed  the  vail,  and  on  that  same  day  of 
the  next  year  he  re-entered  with  the  blood  of  an- 
other victim ;  but  Jesus  has  passed  into  heaven 
itself,  and  still  is  there  pleading  the  value  of  His 
blood,  only  once  shed,  and  the  merit  of  His  sacrifice, 
only  once  presented. 

How  voluntar}^  was  the  gift  —  He  gave  Himself! 
It  was  not  extorted.  The  sufferer  was  no  victim  of 
circumstances.  After  he  began  to  teach,  there  did 
not  slowly  dawn  upon  Him  the  painful  necessity  of 
suffering ;  but  He  came  into  the  world  for  this  very 
purpose  —  to  bleed  and  die.  '  Sacrifice  and  oftering 
thou  didst  not  desire ;  mine  ears  hast  thou  opened : 
burnt-offering  and  sin-offering  hast  thou  not  re- 
quired. Then  said  I,  Lo,  I  come :  in  the  volume 
of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me,  I  delight  to  do  thy 
will,  0  my  God:  yea,  thy  law  is  within  my  heart.' 
The  animal  was  tied  by  cords  to  the  horns  of  the 
altar  ere  its  life  was  taken ;  Abraham  bound  Isaac 
his  son,  ere  he  laid  him  on  the  wood,  and  stretched 
out  his  arm  with  the  knife  to  slay  him ;  but  all  our , 
Lord's  intellectual  and  moral  energies  were  free  and 
unfettered,  for  when  He  gave  Himself  for  us  He  felt 
no  curb,  but  that  of  self-imposed  obligation,  and 
was  urged  by  no  stimulus,  but  that  of  unquenchable 
zeal  and  fondness.  Compulsory  suffering  would 
have  been  highest  injustice,  and  would  have  dam- 
aged the  entire  worth  of  the  oblation. 


60  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

Himself  the  offering  —  liow  pure  !  0,  then,  if 
you  view  Him  as  the  priest,  are  not  purity  and  per- 
fection His  characteristics ;  as  He  appears  hefore  the 
altar,  His  heart  confesses  no  sin  ere  He  makes  atone- 
ment for  the  people  —  no  prayer  for  personal  abso- 
lution escapes  His  lips;  His  supplications  arising 
from  the  depth  of  His  sympathies,  assume  the  form 
of  intercessions ;  and  though  He  plead  with  the 
yearning  interest  of  a  brother,  yet  has  He  no  sinful 
likeness  to  that  family  of  which  He  made  Himself 
a  member,  and  no  participation  in  that  guilt  whose 
removal  He  implores.  Standing  as  the  '  daysman' 
between  heaven  and  earth.  His  higher  nature  has 
received  no  contagion  from  its  humbler  partner. 
He  was  on  earth,  like  His  own  'word  of  prophecy,' 
a  Might  shining  in  a  dark  place  ;'  the  Man  of  men 
—  a  spotless  representative  and  advocate.  And  if 
you  look  upon  Him  as  the  sacrifice,  what  imperfec- 
tion can  be  attached  to  the  Lamb  of  God,  bearing, 
ay,  bearing  away  the  sin  of  the  world.  That  obla- 
tion, no  matter  what  idea  you  form  of  the  altar  on 
which  it  was  presented,  was  pure  as  the  fire  from 
God  by  which  it  was  consumed ;  nor  even  were  its 
aslies  suftered  '  to  see  corruption.'  Surely  the  love 
which  prompted  such  a  noble  gift  is  a  love  'that 
passeth  knowledge.'  What  imagination  can  grasp 
it  —  what  penetration  can  fathom  it!  There  was 
nothing  in  the  church  to  excite  it,  but  everything 
to  repel  it :  '  While  we  were  yet  without  strength, 
Christ  died  for  us.'  Yet  He  loved,  and  that  love 
embodied  itself  in  the  noblest  of  gifts  —  the  gift  of 


Christ's  love  to  the  chukch.  G1 

Himself — generous  and  self-bestowed  ;  and  not  only 
so,  but  it  was  crowned  in  a  death  wliieh  was  calmly 
encountered  and  triumphantly  endured.  Ye  mem- 
bers of  His  church,  as  you  look  to  His  cross,  will 
you  not  be  always  re-assured  of  His  love  :  when  you 
see  Him  groaning,  bleeding  and  dying  in  agony  and 
shame,  under  the  deepest  of  shadows,  and  beneath 
the  most  mysterious  and  terrible  of  visitations,  wiir 
you  not  feel  that  His  love  is  without  parallel  in  its 
unextinguishable  fervour,  and  majestic  results  ?  It 
writes  its  name  on  every  blessing,  and  its  voice  is 
the  music  of  every  invitation.  Will  it  not  glow  in 
your  bosoms,  and  thrill  in  your  praises  ? 

*  Now  to  Him  that  loved  us,  gave  us 
Every  pledge  that  love  could  give — 
Freely  shed  His  blood  to  save  us, 
Gave  His  life,  that  we  might  live, 
Be  the  kingdom 
And  dominion, 
And  the  glory,  evermore !' 

ni.  The  ITearer  Purpose  of  His  Love  and  Death. 

Let  us  now"  consider  the  proximate  purpose  of  the 
Saviour's  love  and  death  —  the  sanctiiication  of  His 
Church :  '  That  he  might  sanctify  and  cleanse  it 
with  the  w^ashing  of  water  by  the  w^ord.'  This  is  a 
design  worthy  of  such  a  love,  and  fitting  such  a 
death:  to  purify  and  ennoble  its  objects  —  to  wash 
them  from  the  stain  of  guilt,  and  clothe  them  in  the 
*  beauties  of  holiness.' 

The  pardon  of  sin  is  not  referred  to,  as  it  is  but 
6 


62  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

as  a  means  to  an  end.  The  imputation  of  riglit- 
eousness  precedes,  and  prepares  for  the  infusion  of 
holiness.  The  remission  of  guilt  does  not  bestow 
purity,  nor  reconfer  original  innocence.  Therefore 
in  this  salvation  man  is  not  only  justified,  but  he  is 
also  sanctified  ;  not  only  does  he  receive  a  full  and 
irrevocable  pardon  of  all  his  sins,  but  he  becomes  a 
new  creature,  ^ot  alone  to  free  him  from  hell,  but 
to  prepare  him  also  for  heaven,  to  elevate  him  to 
those  holy  joys  he  had  lost  and  forfeited  by  the  fall, 
was  the  great  end  and  purpose  of  the  Saviour's  mis- 
sion and  death. 

That  death  not  only  afifects  our  state,  but  also 
tells  upon  our  character.  He  died  to  sanctify  the 
church.  This  sanctification,  though  it  be  the  de- 
sign of  the  atonement,  has  indeed  its  immediate 
source  in  the  influences  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  _  He 
regenerates  the  heart ;  and  the  radical  change  is  one 
from  death  to  life.  Not  only  does  He  originate  the 
change,  but  He  sustains  it ;  for  He  '  abides'  within 
us.  What  He  commences,  He  still  fosters  and  per- 
fects. The  life  which  He  imparts  He  nurses  and 
cherishes  till  it  come  to  maturity.  The  forgiveness 
of  guilt  is  an  act  without  us,  or  a  sentence  of  re- 
lease, which,  on  being  pronounced,  takes  immediate 
and  complete  efiect.  But  sanctification  is  a  work 
within  us,  which  is  progressive  in  its  nature,  and 
which,  owing  to  our  waywardness,  is  often  retarded. 
O  !  there  is  many  a  sigh  and  many  a  struggle  when 
the  heart  is  carried  away  by  inferior  motives  —  the 
law  in  the  members  warring  against  the  law  of  the 


CHRIST  S    LOVE   TO    THE   CHURCH.  b3 

mind,  and  threatening  to  bring  it  into  captivity. 
From  the  mysterious  moment  of  regeneration,  when 
the  spirit  is  born  again,  or  the  more  palpable  mo- 
ment when  this  hidden  gift  reveals  its  power  in  con- 
version, on  till  the  instant  of  death,  the  work  of 
sanctification  advances,  often  very  unequally,  and 
amidst  tears  and  prayers,  conflicts  and  triumphs. 
The  pardon  of  iniquity  is  a  blessing  that  comes  di- 
rectly and  without  intervention  from  the  cross ;  but 
the  purification  of  our  nature,  though  it  have  the 
Spirit  for  its  agent,  is  yet  carried  out  by  various  in- 
strumentalities. Thus  it  is  said  in  our  text,  'He 
loved  the  church,  and  gave  himself  for  it,'  in  order 
that,  having  cleansed  it,  He  might  sanctify  it  '  with 
the  washing  of  water  by  the  word.'  The  terms  are 
expressive.  The  allusion  is  to  a  bridal  ceremony, 
and, perhaps  to  the  usual  ante-nuptial  lustrations. 
As  the  church  is  the  bride,  there  may  be  a  reference 
to  the  water  of  baptism,  but  to  that  only  as  the 
symbol  and  pledge  of  spiritual  influence.  And  the 
phrase,  '  by  the  word,'  we  take  to  be  a  reference  to 
the  scriptures  —  'the  word,'  'the  word  of  God.' 
The  meaning,  then,  seems  to  be,  that  in  consequence 
of  the  love  and  of  the  atoning  death  of  Christ,  men 
are  now  sanctified  by  the  Spirit,  acting  generally  by 
means  of  the  word. 

And  that  word  does  possess  a  sanctifying  power. 
*  Wherewithal  shall  a  young  man  cleanse  his  way  ? 
By  taking  heed  thereto  according  to  thy  word.' 
'  Sanctify  them  through  thy  truth,  thy  word  is  truth.' 
How  often  does  the  w^ord  stir  up  the  conscience, 


64  THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 

and  appal  it  with  solemn  and  deep  conviction,  pres- 
sing it  to  seek  safety  in  the  cross.  '  It  pierces  even 
to  the  dividing  asunder  of  joints  and  marrow ;' 
throws  the  soul  into  such  an  agitation,  as  if  the 
'  pains  of  hell'  had  taken  hold  on  it,  that  it  may  be 
led  to  the  refuge  of  the  gospel.  With  what  promi- 
nence and  charms  it  holds  up  Christ  as  the  one  Sa- 
viour, amidst  the  terror  of  its  thunders,  and  the 
earnest  agony  of  its  invitations.  But  to  the  believer 
it  is  also  the  standard  of  duty,  the  rule  of  manners. 
It  shows  him  his  defects,  and  urges  him  to  progress. 
It  w^arns  him  and  encourages  him.  It  preserves 
him  from  self-delusion,  for  it  holds  up  the  spiritual- 
ity of  the  law,  and  the  immaculate  purity  of  Christ's 
example.  So  that,  amidst  his  lamentations  of  w^eak- 
ness,  he  looks  to  the  word  of  God  for  courage  ;  and 
the  more  he  drinks  into  the  spirit  of  the  Bible,  and 
the  more  he  feels  its  laws  engraven  on  his  heart,  the 
more  does  he  grow^  in  sanctity,  and  realise  his  lofty 
destiny  — '  to  glorify  God,  and  enjo}^  him  for  ever.' 
If  the  attainment  of  holiness  be  likened  to  a  life, 
the  word  is  the  food ;  if  to  a  race,  it  is  a  *  light  to 
the  feet ;'  if  to  a  battle,  it  is  the  '  sword  of  the  Spi- 
rit,' by  wdiich  our  antagonists  are  cloven  down  and 
dispersed. 

Still  the  Bible  is  but  a  dead  letter  without  the 
Spirit.  It  is  His  special  function  to  give  it  edge  and 
penetration.  ]N"ot  that  He  imparts  any  new  truths, 
as  such  an  idea  would  be  a  libel  on  the  perfection 
of  the  previous  revelation.  But  He  enlightens  the 
mind,  and  He  so  softens  the  heart,  as  to  render  it 


Christ's  love  to  the  church.  6^ 

susceptible  of  impression  from  the  word.  Ah  !  how 
mail}'  read  the  scriptures,  and,  closing  the  sacred 
volume,  retain  not  one  idea  in  their  intellect,  not 
one  iact  on  their  memory,  not  one  impression  on 
their  heart.  The  Spirit  who  gave  the  Bible  has  not 
heen  implored,  and  the  study  of  His  Book  has  not 
been  imbued  with  His  healthful  influence.  But 
when  He  impresses  its  truths  on  mind  and  con- 
science, and  lodges  its  statements  in  the  deep  re- 
cesses of  the  soul,  then  does  it  evince  its  power, 
impelling  the  sluggish,  warning  the  wayward,  con- 
trolling the  vehement,  directing  the  unwary,  deter- 
ring the  presumptuous,  cheering  the  downcast,  and 
animating  the  feeble.  In  short,  when  the  Spirit 
comes  with  the  word,  then  the  experience  of  the 
Psalmist  is  reahsed :  '  The  law  of  the  Lord  is  per- 
fect, converting  the  soul :  the  testimony  of  the  Lord 
is  sure,  making  wise  the  simple :  the  statutes  of  the 
Lord  are  right,  rejoicing  the  heart:  the  command- 
ment of  the  Lord  is  pure,  enlightening  the  eyes  : 
the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  clean,  enduring  for  ever : 
the  judgments  of  the  Lord  are  true  and  righteous 
altogether.  More  to  be  desired  are  they  than  gold, 
yea,  than  much  fine  gold  ;  sweeter  also  than  honey, 
and  the  honey-comb.  Moreover,  by  them  is  thy 
servant  warned :  and  in  keeping  of  them  there  is 
great  reward.'  And  now,  does  not  the  love  of 
Christ  commend  itself,  in  forming  such  a  motive, 
and  securing  such  a  result?  It  was  no  idle  attach- 
ment, no  sentimental  outburst,  but  a  mighty  and 
all-conquering  affection,  which  did  not  expire  in 


66  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

mere  lamentation  over  man's  fallen  condition,  for 
it  has  stooped  and  raised  him  to  the  likeness  and 
enjoyment  of  itself. 

Thus,  though  the  Spirit  be  the  agent,  and  the 
word  the  means  of  sanctification,  the  process  is  here 
ascribed  to  Christ.  It  is  in  consequence  of  what  He 
has  done  that  the  Spirit  has  been  given.  The  Holy 
Ghost  descended  only  when  Jesus  was  glorified. 
Moreover,  the  entire  work  of  the  Spirit  has  a  close 
and  a  perpetual  connection  with  Christ.  '  He  shall 
take  of  mine,'  says  the  Eedeemer,  '  and  show  it  unto 
3^ou.'  The  entire  material  of  the  Spirit's  operation 
is  Christ's.  AVlien  He  enlightens,  it  is  with  the 
truth  of  Christ;  when  He  sanctifies,  it  is  with  the 
blood  of  Christ ;  when  He  comforts,  it  is  with  the 
promises  of  Christ ;  and  when  He  seals,  it  is  with 
the  image  of  Christ.  ISTa}^  more,  the  atonement  has 
another  and  vital  connection  with  our  sanctification. 
For  not  only  has  this  spiritual  influence  been  se- 
cured, but  the  most  powerful  of  motives  is  also  sup- 
plied by  it.  That  love  which  so  mightily  works 
upon  us,  springs  from  faith  in  the  atonement ;  for 
he  who  receives  the  atonement,  cannot  but  love  the 
Atoner  —  he  who  so  profits  by  the  death,  gives  him- 
self to  Him  who  died.  That  law  which  man  had 
broken  terrified  him  by  its  penalty,  and  as  he  hated 
it,  and  would  not  obey  it,  it  served  to  reveal  and 
exacerbate  the  corruption  within  him ;  but  its  penalty 
being  borne,  and  itself  being  satisfied  in  the  death 
of  Christ,  it  no  longer  creates  alarm ;  for,  viewed 
now  as  the  mind  and  will  of  Christ,  it  commands 
4 


Christ's  love  to  the  church.  67 

the  affection  and  loyalty  of  the  believinp^  heart. 
The  example  of  Jesus  also  derives  its  peculiar  power 
of  assimilation,  not  simply  from  its  own  purity  and 
loveliness,  hut  especially  from  the  fact,  that  it  is  the 
example  of  Him  who  loved  the  church,  and  gave 
Himself  for  it,  and  therefore  every  member  of  that 
church  is  instinctively  led  to  observe,  admire,  and 
imitate.  Thus  Christ  has  loved  the  church,  and 
given  Himself  for  it ;  and  thus  He  sanctifies  it  '  with 
the  washing  of  water  by  the  word.' 

IV.  The  Ultimate  End  and  Result. 

With  what  delight  and  satisfaction  will  we  not 
now  contemplate  the  ulterior  purpose  of  these  pre- 
liminary arrangements  —  '  That  he  might  present  it 
to  himself  a  glorious  church,  not  having  spot,  or 
wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing.'  How  noble  such  a 
destiny  —  perfect  restoration  and  felicity.  The 
nuptial  figure  is  still  continued,  and  the  allusion  is  to 
the  presentation  of  the  bride  to  her  husband.  That 
presentation  does  not  take  place  till  he  can  look 
upon  her  with  complacency.  But  spiritual  perfec- 
tion is  pledged  ;  the  love  of  Christ  would  not  be  con- 
tented without  it,  and  His  death,  in  union  with  the 
eternal  purpose,  has  effectually  compassed  it.  For 
as  that  love  was  no  meteor  that  flashed  athwart  the 
sky,  and  gave  sunken  humanity  a  momentary  hope 
by  its  sudden  gleam,  but  was  as  the  vernal  sun, 
whose  splendour  not  only  fills  the  heavens,  but 
gives  life  and  growth  to  what  had  been  torpid 
amidst  the  frosts  and  snows  of  winter,  so  that  death 
was  not  a  pcradvcnture  or  an  experiment  —  its  re- 


68  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

suits  were  foreseen  and  secured  in  the  counsels  of 
eternity.  Wherever  there  is  this  incipient  sancti- 
fication,  there  is  also  the  guarantee  of  this  final 
completion:  'He  who  hath  begun  the  good  work, 
will  perform  it  until  the  day  of  Christ.'  Moreover 
all  that  is  holy  in  nature  is  heavenly  in  tendency  — 
and  the  elements  of  this  progressive  sanctification 
have  an  instinctive  longing  to  climb  upwards  to- 
that  Divine  bosom  which  is  their  origin  and  home. 
Grace  is  glory  begun,  and  glory  is  grace  consum- 
mated —  the  one  is  the  bud,  the  other  the  fruit  — 
the  one  is  childhood,  the  other  the  maturity  of  age. 
But  there  is  a  necessary  development ;  and  the  sanc- 
tified church  becomes  in  due  time  '  a  glorious  church, 
not  having  spot,  or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing.' 
What  is  partial  now,  is  then  complete;  the  shades 
that  hover  around  us  are  dispelled,  besetting  in- 
firmities have  vanished,  indwelling  sin  is  extir- 
pated, chilUug  influences  are  removed,  and,  '  the  per- 
fect day'  comes  at  length,  whose  light  is  liable  to 
no  revolution,  and  which  shall  never  suffer  any 
eclipse. 

If  it  have  no  spot  or  wrinkle,  0  will  it  not  be  a 
glorious  church  ?  Now  it  has  dark  freckles,  but 
yet  it  is  'all-glorious,'  in  spite  of  its  many  imperfec- 
tions. The  Spirit  and  word  are  still  sanctifying  it ; 
and  when  its  bright  countenance  is  without  stain, 
then  has  the  appointed  epoch  revolved.  It  is  of  the 
church,  as  an  organic  whole,  that  the  apostle  speaks ; 
and  the  presentation  is  deferred  till  the  last  and 
happy  period,  when  the  church  shall  be  as  perfect 


CHRIST  S   LOVE   TO   THE    CHURCH.  b\) 

in  numbers  as  it  is  in  character.     Though  many 
have  been  gathered  into  the  heavens,  yet,  not  till 
all  who  are  to  compose  the  church  are  finally  re- 
deemed and  translated,  has  the  'set  time'  come. 
And  then  when  myriads  of  myriads  are  collected, 
and  the  blessed  company  is  complete,  no  matter 
when  they  lived,  or  how  they  were  converted— what 
was  their  previous  condition,  or  the  stage  of  spirit- 
ual progress   they  had  reached   ere  they  left  the 
world  —  the    Saviour,    standing    on   His    elevated 
throne,  and  surveying  at  one  glance  every  secret 
thought   and    emotion,    shall    behold    nothing   to 
offend  Him ;-  the  church  will  then   appear  in  His 
vision,  whose  'eyes  are  as  a  flame  of  fire,'  'without 
spot,   or  wrinkle,  or  any  such  thing.'     And  thus, 
having  loved  her  in  her  impuritj^,  so  as  to  give 
Himself  for  her,  how  deep  and  ardent  must   now 
be  His  attachment,  when  he  sees,  in  her  perfection, 
the  fall  success  of  His  redeeming  efforts  and  sacri- 
fice.    The  union  is  at  length  consummated  amidst 
the   pealing    hallelujahs   of   grateful   triumph — a 
union  never  to  be  interrupted  by  one  passing  sus- 
picion, but  ever  to  become  more  joyous,  and  more 
fertile  in  the  fruits  of  unbroken  and  mutual  satis- 
faction and  glory.     Who  but  a  God  could  have  de- 
vised such  a  destiny;  who  but  a  God  could  have 
wrought  it  out  ?     To   think  of  uniting  Himself  to 
creatures,  and   such  creatures  —  O,  the  very  idea 
bewrays  its  origin.     The   love  which,    to   prepare 
them  for  such  a  union,  sustained  the  agonies  of 
Calvary,  could  have  no  origin  but  in  Him  who  is 


70  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

Love.  Let  the  church,  as  it  contemplates  this  high 
and  happy  destiny,  enter  into  its  spirit,  and  seek  in 
the  meantime  to  reaUse  it. 

Members  of  the  church  of  Christ,  reflect  on  your 
past  position,  on  its  helplessness  and  guilt.  How 
low  and  loathsome  was  your  state — Paradise  expel- 
led you,  and  heaven  could  not  admit  you.  And 
yet,  when  you  were  so  unlike  Him,  He  loved  you 
—  and  0  how  He  loved  you!  At  what  an  expense 
have  you  been  delivered :  '  not  with  corruptible 
things.'  God  says  concerning  His  ancient  church, 
'  I  gave  Egypt  for  thee  ;  Ethiopia  and  Seba  for  thy 
ransom ;'  but  to  His  present  church  His  moving  ap- 
peal is,  '  Ye  are  redeemed  with  the  precious  blood 
of  Christ,  as  of  a  Lamb  without  blemish  and  with- 
out spot.'  If  He  has  loved  you,  and  died  for  you, 
to  sanctify  and  perfect  you,  and  for  ever  unite  you 
to  Himself,  will  you  not  feel  that  you  are  His  ?  Will 
not  the  cords  of  His  love  bind  you  to  Him  as  His 
own  ?  Are  you  not  His  ;  for  He  has  bought  you — 
paid  a  price  beyond  all  calculation  for  3'ou  ?  Are 
not  you  His,  for  his  authority  governs  you,  and  His 
law  directs  you  ?  Ka^^  more,  are  you  not  His ;  for 
has  not  His  Spirit,  as  His  representative  and  in  His 
name,  taken  possession  of  you  ?  Are  you  not  there- 
fore really  His  ?  Will  you  not  live  and  act  under 
this  hallowed  consciousness,  and  rise  above  every 
form  of  temptation  and  sin  ?  Let  not  present  evil 
discourage  you ;  for  each  of  you  can  say,  I  have 
His  love.  So  long  as  you  enjoy  that  love,  why 
should  anything  distress  you  ?  Will  it  not  soothe 


Christ's  love  to  the  church.  71 

and  compensate  you  ?  If  you  have  Ilis  love,  you 
have  everything.  O,  then,  ever  cherish  this  secret 
treasure,  and  feel  within  you,  I  possess  His  love. 

And  now  tell  me,  can  you  imagine  a  nobler  pur- 
pose for  His  love  than  this  —  to  sanctify  you,  to 
bring  you  back  to  lost  holiness  and  forfeited  felicity  ? 
Will  you  not  enter  at  once  and  thoroughly  into  the 
spirit  of  it,  or  will  you  dare  to  frustrate  the  design 
of  His  death  by  continuance  in  sin  ?  With  His 
glory  as  your  aim,  and  His  law  as  your  guide — His 
love  as  your  motive,  and  His  Spirit  as  your  power, 
O  will  it  not  be  your  intense  desire  to  '  hate  every 
false  way,'  and  '  so  to  walk  even  as  He  walked !' 

What  an  inducement,  too,  to  commemorate  His 
death  as  the  result  of  His  love,  and  to  pray  for  more 
of  its  purifying  and  elevating  power !  Let  the  love 
of  Christ  thus  ^  constrain'  you.  Nourish  the  thought 
of  it,  cherish  the  nearer  purpose  of  it,  and  long  for 
its  ultimate  result.  That  love  which  has  suffered 
so  much  for  you,  will  not  be  content  till  it  have  you 
near  itself,  and  its  summons  will  soon  say  to  you, 
'  Come  up  hither,' — 

*  Where  keep  the  saints,  with  harp  and  song, 

An  endless  Sabbath  morning; 
And  in  that  sea,  commixed  with  fire, 
Oft  drop  their  eyelids,  raised  too  long, 

To  the  full  Godhead  burning.' 

Then,  with  all  saints,  so  close  to  Him,  and  never 
more  to  be  away  from  Him,  His  glory  will  fill  and 
ravish  your  vision,  for  His  love  will  have  realised 


72  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

its  end  in  your  perfected  and  happy  natures. 
*  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  died;'  yea,  worthy  of 
eternal  tribute  and  praise.  Such  is  the  ceaseless 
minstrelsy  of  the  exalted  church,  and  such  is  the 
response  of  all  its  members  now  on  their  way  to 
glory.     Hallelujah !     Amen. 


THE   LOVE    OF   THE   SPIRIT.  73 


LECTURE  III, 


THE  LOVE  OF  THE  SPIRIT — ITS  REALITY  AND  GLORY. 
AN  ARGUMENT. 

Rom.  XV.  30. 

.     .     *  The  love  of  the  Spirit'    .    . 

If  we  have  dwelt  ou  the  love  of  the  Father,  and 
have  illustrated  that  of  the  Son,  it  cannot  be  that 
we  shall  neglect  the  love  of  the  Spirit.  His  attach- 
ment has  not  indeed  had  thrown  around  it  the  same 
visible  and  majestic  mantle  as  that  of  Father  and 
Son.  But  it  is  none  the  less  real,  nor  is  it  essenti- 
ally diiferent.  It  exhibits  the  same  divine  features 
—  the  same  characteristic  phenomena  of  tender- 
ness, fulness,  and  self-denial.  For  He  is  one  with 
Father  and  Son.  His  functions,  it  is  true,  in  the 
scheme  of  redemption  are  subjective,  and  are  wholly 
occupied  with  human  experience.  It  is  not  without 
us,  but  within  us  that  He  operates ;  for  His  work  is 
not  a  spectacle  to  be  contemplated,  but  a  process  to 
be  felt.  And  His  love  has  not  one  spot,  like  Cal- 
vary, for  its  surpassing  manifestation,  but  it  is  every- 
where exhibited  in  the  church  ;  and  its  genial  glow, 
7 


74  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

which  burst  into  a  flame  at  Pentecost,  has  been  con- 
tinuously clifFused.  ■  Yet  who  shall  say  that  though 
His  love  have  clothed  itself  in  no  glorious  external- 
ity, it  is  the  less  genuine,  as  it  ihrills  in  the  renewed 
heart  ?  His  love,  in  short,  is  divine,  for  it  is  that 
of  the  Third  Person  of  the  Godhead.  The  one 
emotion  of  attachment  dwells  in  the  one  God,  and 
that  distinction  which  w^e  name  personalit}^,  does 
not  violate  this  unity  of  affection.  The  same  ele- 
ments of  eternity,  infinitude,  and  unchangeableness 
wdiich  distinguish  the  love  of  Father  and  Son,  dis- 
tinsfuish  also  the  love  of  the  Holv  Ghost.  Though 
He  is  named  third  in  the  inspired  formulary  of  bap- 
tism and  benediction,  His  lustre  is  not  dimmer  than 
that  of  God  the  Father,  or  that  of  God  the  Son. 
His  name  is  last  in  reference,  not  to  His  essential 
nature,  but  to  His  place  and  sphere  of  operation  in 
the  scheme  of  redemption. 

And  that  love,  moreover,  is  saving  love.  That 
He  has  any  part  at  all  in  the  scheme  of  mercy, 
proves  the  depth  and  fervour  of  His  love.  For  sin 
is  as  hateful  to  Him  as  to  the  Father ;  and  must  be 
so  to  Him  who  is  specially  named  the  Soli/  Ghost. 
ISTay,  human  guilt  must  have  touched  Him  with  a 
peculiar  sorrow.  The  '  Spirit  brooded  on  the  face 
of  the  deep,'  and  fitted  up  the  world  as  the  residence 
of  the  novel  creature  ;  and  He  took  possession,  too, 
of  Adam,  when  the  breath  of  the  Lord  God  kindled 
life  within  him.  What  provocation  must  He  have 
felt  w^hen  He  was  forced  to  quit  the  soul  w^hich  He 
had  so  recently  entered,  and  when  He  beheld  sin 


THE    LOVE   OF   THE    SPIRIT.  75 

bring  death  and  desolation  over  that  earth,  which 
He  had  so  shortly  before  evoked  from  chaos  !  Yet 
lie  has  loved  man,  and  He  has  a  position,  and  that 
a  momentous  one — a  function,  and  that  a  vital  one, 
in  the  economy  of  mercy.  Gracious,  disinterested, 
and  sovereign  must  be  the  love  of  this  Divine  Spi- 
rit. Thus,  though  its  modes  of  manifestation  may 
vary,  its  essence  is  identical  with  that  of  Father  and 
Son.  The  Father  loved  in  sending  His  Son,  and 
that  Son  loved  in  coming  and  dying ;  but  the  Spi- 
rit equally  exhibits  His  love  in  His  various  modes 
of  operation  and  residence. 

1.  And  tirst,  is  not  the  love  of  the  Spirit  seen  in 
preparing  and  publishing  for  us  the  Holy  Scriptures? 
This  blessed  book  is  His  precious  gift.  It  was  by 
His  influence  that  prophets  and  apostles  wrote  and 
circulated  it.  The  Holy  Ghost  is  the  source  of  in- 
spiration ;  and  He  was  the  great  promise  of  Jesus 
to  the  apostles  to  quahty  them  for  their  mission. 
They  spoke  in  the  words  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  '  God 
hath  revealed  them  to  us  by  his  Spirit.'  'Which 
things  also  we  speak,  not  in  the  words  which  man's 
wisdom  teach eth,  but  which  the  Holy  Ghost  teach- 
eth.'  What  a  boon  was  this  —  the  revelation  of 
God's  eternal  plan — the  communication  to  men  of 
that  saving  knowledge  which  they  could  never  have 
discovered  for  themselves.  Cast  your  eye  over  any 
part  of  the  world  where  the  divine  word  has  not 
been  distributed,  and  what  crude  and  erroneous 
opinions  of  God  and  man,  of  duty  and  destiny,  are 
universally  and  fatally  prevalent.     Worship  is  either 


76  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

inanity,  lust,  or  brutal  fanaticism.  Life  is  but  a 
distracted  fever,  and  death  its  dark  conclusion. 
What  benefits,  then,  have  you  not  got  from  scrip- 
ture —  what  knowledge  as  the  basis  of  faith,  what 
comfort  and  hope  in  your  trials,  what  counsel  as 
to  the  way  of  duty,  and  wdiat  bright  glimpses  of 
eternity. 

And  if  you  regard  the  Bible  in  its  fulness  —  all 
necessary  instruction  is  communicated ;  or  in  its 
clearness  —  ^he  may  run  that  readeth  it;'  or  in  its 
majesty  —  it  is  the  voice  and  word  of  the  great  Je- 
hovah ;  or  in  its  impressiveness  —  it  solemnises  and 
awakens,  it  cheers  and  strengthens,  it  directs  and 
purifies.  In  whatever  aspect  you  take  it,  you  can- 
not but  feel  it  to  be  a  product  of  love  —  love  to  the 
best  interests  of  the  best  part  of  your  nature.  Think 
of  it  as  the  Book  of  'books,  the  roll  of  promise 
which  you  clasp  to  your  bosom.  Remember  its 
Moses  and  Paul,  its  Elijah  and  Peter,  its  Isaiah  and 
John.  Think  of  its  pure  truth,  its  tender  invita- 
tions, its  thrilling  promises,  and  awful  warnings; 
of  its  tears  and  its  thunder,  of  its  pathos  and  its 
stern  ess.  Survey  the  altar  of  Aaron,  and  the  throne 
of  David  ;  the  birth  at  Bethlehem,  and  the  death  on 
Calvary;  the  sepulchre  of  Joseph,  and  the  descent 
at  Pentecost.  Call  to  mind  the  united  testimony 
of  all  saints  to  the  sacred  volume,  as  first  in  rank, 
and  mightiest  in  efifect  on  conscience  and  life,  and 
surely  you  will  be  disposed  to  glorify  the  love  of 
that  Spirit  who  is  really  its  author,  who  knows  our 
frame,  and   has   accommodated  His  book  to  our 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT.  77 

weakness  and  wants.  'Next  to  His  own  gift  of  Him- 
self, is  His  gift  of  the  volume  of  life ;  and  the  love 
that  brightens  every  page,  is  proof  of  the  love  of 
Him  who  gave  it.  If  I  am  benighted  and  wander- 
ing, with  death  before  me  if  I  proceed,  is  it  not  love 
to  warn  me  and  set  me  right  ?  and  if  I  am  disposed 
to  treat  this  counsel  lightly,  is  it  not  kindest  love  to 
terrify  me  into  compliance  ?  0  say  not,  therefore, 
that  the  threatenings  of  scripture  are  awful  and 
agonising,  and  might  be  dispensed  with.  No ;  it 
was  the  tenderness  of  the  Spirit's  love  that  dictated 
them.  You  must  be  aroused  ere  you  can  be  saved. 
It  would  be  mistaken  affection  to  fear  to  distifrb 
the  sleeper  in  the  hour  of  peril.  The  alarms  of  scrip- 
ture are  the  loud  voice  of  Divine  love  in  agony  over 
you.  The  hundred  and  nineteenth  Psalm,  a  pro- 
longed eulogy  on  the  Bible,  is  a  sustained  proof  and 
demonstration  of  this  love  of  the  Spirit. 

2.  The  love  of  the  Spirit  may  be  learned  from 
His  preparation  of  the  human  nature  of  Jesus,  aiKl 
His  dwelling  in  it.  Our  argument  now  is.  He  who 
loves  the  means,  loves  the  end.  If  the  Spirit  had 
such  a  connexion  with  the  mediatorial  nature  of  the 
Son  of  God,  what  love  must  He  have  had  to  those 
sinners  whom  Christ  became  incarnate  to  save ! 
His  union  with  Jesus  was  early  predicted :  '  Behold 
my  Servant  whom  I  have  chosen.  ...  I  have 
put  my  Spirit  upon  him.'  '  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
God  is  upon  me :  for  the  Lord  hath  anointed  me.' 
Messiah,  or  Christ  the  anointed  one,  enjoyed  the 
auction  of  the  Spirit :  '  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come 
7* 


78  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

upon  thee,'  said  the  angel  to  His  nriotber,  '  and  the 
power  of  the  Highest  shall  overshadow  thee.'  The 
Spirit  came  down  upon  Him  at  His  baptism,  and 
^  remained'  upon  Him.  '  God  gave  not  the  Spirit 
by  measure  unto  him.'  'By  the  Spirit  of  God'  He 
wrought  miracles.  '  Through  the  eternal  Spirit  he 
offered  himself  w^ithout  spot  to  God.'  'Put  to 
death  in  the  flesh,  he  was  quickened  by  the  Spirit.' 
He  was  'declared  to  be  the  Son  of  God,  according 
to  the  Spirit  of  holiness,  by  his  resurrection  from 
the  dead,'  His  constitution  and  career  are  also  de- 
scribed in  those  two  parallel  clauses  —  'God  mani- 
fest in  the  flesh,  justified  in  the  Spirit.'  Thus,  by 
means  of  the  Spirit,  was  the  humanity  of  Jesus 
created,  endowed,  and  sustained  for  its  arduous  en- 
terprise. And  does  not  this  agency  of  the  Spirit 
argue  His  love  to  the  great  cause  of  our  salvation  ? 
That  body  which  was  at  length  to  be  offered,  and 
that  blood  so  soon  to  be  '  poured  out  for  remission 
of  sins  unto  many ;'  in  short,  that  humanity  which, 
in  its  glorified  state,  was  to  plead  for  us  with  God, 
and  govern  and  defend  us,  was  brought  into  exist- 
ence, fitted,  and  furnished,  by  the  operation  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  Will  you  not  appreciate  His  love  to 
the  saved  in  this  union  wdth  their  Saviour  ?  And 
when  you  feel  your  relation  to  the  Brother-man, 
and  think  how  He  wears  your  flesh,  and  has  a  fel- 
low-feeling -with,  you  in  it,  and  in  it  has  been  crowned 
with  glory ;  wdien  you  partake  of  the  sacramental 
symbols  of  His  holy  suffering  humanity,  and  hear 
those  awful  words,   '  This  is  my  body  broken  for 


THE   LOVE   OF  THE   SPIRIT.  79 

you' — ^  this  Clip  is  the  new  testament  in  my  blood ;' 
when  you  anticipate  the  falHng  of  your  own  frame 
into  the  sepulchre,  amidst  the  solemn  cry  of  dust  to 
dust,  and  ashes  to  ashes,  and  cherish  the  hope  of 
seeing  Ilim  and  being  satisfied  with  His  likeness, 
then,  0  then !  will  you  not  see  in  Him  and  His 
humanity  a  singular  and  touching  proof  of  the  love 
of  the  Spirit? 

3.  His  love  is  evinced  by  the  special  position 
which  He  occupies  in  our  salvation.  And  accord- 
ing to  the  Xew  Testament  He  is  Christ's  representa- 
tive and  substitute.  'I  will,'  says  our  Lord,  '  send 
you  another  Comforter' — another,  implying  that 
Himself  was  the  first,  and  that  the  Holy  Ghost  was 
to  be  the  second  in  His  room.  Other  passages  an- 
nounce the  same  truth.  *I  will  pray  the  Father, 
and  he  shall  give  you  another  Comforter,  that  he 
may  abide  w^ith  you,  even  the  Spirit  of  truth.'  '  The 
Comforter,  who  is  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom  the  Father 
w^ill  send  in  my  name,  he  shall  teach  you  all  things.' 
'  When  the  Comforter  is  come,  whom  I  will  send 
unto  you  from  the  Father,  even  the  Spirit  of  truth, 
which  proceedeth  from  the  Father,  he  shall  testify 
of  me.'  '  It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away  : 
for  if  I  go  not  away,  the  Comforter  will  not  come 
unto  you ;  but  if  I  depart,  I  will  send  him  unto 
you.'  Such  being  the  case,  our  plain  argument  is, 
that  if  the  Spirit  occupy  such  a  position,  love  must 
have  prompted  Him  to  it.  There  lay  no  necessity 
upon  Him — He  was  under  no  moral  constraint. 
There  was  nothing  in  His  essence  or  His  character 


80 


THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 


that  demanded  this  condescension  of  Him.  That 
love  which  brought  Jesus  down  to  earth,  that  and 
none  other  brought  down  the  Spirit  to  fill  His  room. 
He  cannot  be  a  substitute  if  He  has  not  the  attach- 
ment of  Him  whom  He  represents.  l^or  would 
.Jesus  have  intrusted  the  completion  of  His  work  to 
(one  of  less  love  than  His  own,  for  such  a  task 
needed  all  the  love  which  led  to  the  cross,  and  sus- 
tained under  its  agonies.  Love  of  a  lower  tempera- 
ture would  have  sunk  beneath  the  enterprise.  That 
enterprise  was  to  be  as  Christ  was  — '  another  Com- 
forter;' to  stand  to  the  church  as  did  the  tender 
and  sympathising  Jesus,  to  speak  as  He  spoke,  to 
cherish  as  He  cherished,  and  to  lead  as  He  led  to 
communion  with  Himself  The  ardour  of  such  a 
love  is  equal  to  that  of  Christ,  but  its  radiance  is  of 
a  mellower  and  less  dazzling  nature.  Like  the 
light  of  the  sun,  which  is  of  intolerable  brilliance, 
and  cannot  be  hidden,  —  the  Son  of  God  appeared 
in  this  commanding  splendour  of  love.  But  the 
light  which  follows  the  setting  of  the  luminary 
is  softer,  sweeter,  and  less  majestic ;  so,  though  the 
love  of  the  Spirit,  appearing  after  the  withdrawal 
of  Jesus,  may  assume  a  milder  form,  yet  it  has  not 
the  less  penetration  or  divinity.  Feeling,  then,  the 
relation  which  the  Spirit  bears  to  the  church  —  how 
He  compensates  for  the  absence  of  Christ's  person 
and  visible  sympathies,  and  how  all  that  you  would 
anticipate  from  the  Incarnate  Brother  is  realised  in 
and  from  Him,  will  you  not  discern  in  this  tender 
and  delicate  position  another  proof  and  result  of 


THE   LOVE   OF   THE    SPIRIT.  81 

the  love  of  the  Spirit  ?  If,  therefore,  beUever,  thou 
hast  ever  pictured  to  thyself  what  noble  enjoyment 
thou  miirhtest  have  had  in  following?  Christ  incar- 
nate  were  He  upon  earth,  in  ministering  to  Him,  in 
hstening  to  Him,  in  beholding  the  miracles  of  His 
grace,  in  telling  Him  thy  sorrows,  and  soliciting 
His  sympathy  under  thy  bereavements;  if  this 
vision  ever  rise  up  before  thee,  then  feel  that  it  is 
all  verified  now  in  and  through  the  love  and  pre- 
sence of  the  '  good  Spirit.'  As  Jesus  was  to  Mary 
and  to  John,  so  is  the  Spirit  now  to  thee.  As  He 
was  to  the  widow  of  ISTain  —  as  He  was  at  the  tomb 
of  Lazarus  —  as  He  was  to  her  who  bathed  His  feet 
in  tears  ;  so  is  the  Spirit  in  His  love  to  thee.  Will 
not  thy  heart  beat  in  responsive  pulsation,  and  will 
not  thy  petition  be,  '  Take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from 
me.' 

4.  The  same  truth  may  be  inferred  from  the  pecu- 
liar function  which  the  Spirit  discharges.  The  pro- 
vince which  the  '  Free  Spirit'  occupies  is  that  of 
application.  Christ  provides.  He  applies.  This 
w^ork  of  His  is  distinctly  told  to  us  by  Jesus :  '  He 
shall  glorify  me,  for  he  shall  receive  of  mine,  and 
shall  show  it  unto  you.'  He  applies  the  truth  of 
Christ  for  our  enlightenment,  and  not  some  new 
and  unheard-of  revelation.  It  is  the  blood  of  Christ 
which  He  sprinkles  for  our  purification,  and  the 
image  of  Christ  with  which  He  seals  us.  What 
Christ  has  done  for  us  was  done  in  Judea,  and  what 
He  now  does  for  us  is  done  in  the  court  of  heaven ; 
but  all  that  the  Spirit  does  for  us  is  within  us,  is  in 


82  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

our  hearts.  His  work  is  subjective,  and  deep  laid 
in  our  vital  experience.  The  first  inapiilse  to  be- 
lieve, and  the  last  polish  and  preparation  of  the 
departing  spirit  for  eternity,  are  aUke  His  gracious 
and  sovereign  gift.  "What  special  and  tenacious 
love  is  there  not  in  all  these  operations  ? 
,  He  awakens.  It  is  His  work  to  alarm  the  con- 
science,  to  throw  the  sinner  into  agony,  and  to 
leave  him  no  rest  until  he  lay  hold  on  Christ.  Xow, 
it  is  His  love  which  originates  all  this  distraction. 
As  we  have  already  said,  the  truest  love  to  the  man 
in  danger  is  to  terrify  him  out  of  it.  But  it  is  not 
one  simple  impulse  which  creates  this  agitation, 
this  wretchedness  in  the  heart  of  a  panic-stricken 
sinner.  O  what  effort,  continuous  and  prolonged, 
is  put  forth  !  The  Spirit  employs  every  means.  He 
w^arns  and  He  invites.  He  threatens  and  He  per- 
suades ;  He  strikes  a  terror  into  the  heart,  or  keeps 
up  in  the  memory  the  echo  of  an  arousing  sermon  ; 
He  sends  some  sharp  visitation  of  providence,  and 
brings  the  man  so  near  the  gates  of  death,  that  he 
sees  the  grim  portals,  and  starts  and  shudders  ;  or 
He  brings  some  bereavement  so  close  upon  him  that 
his  heart  bleeds  in  anguish, — and  all  this  discipline, 
or  a  large  portion  of  it,  maybe  repeated,  and  varied, 
and  multiplied  year  after  year,  till  the  end  be  achiev- 
ed. For  the  heart  appears  often  to  close  itself  against 
the  Spirit,  and  defy  all  His  endeavours,  and  there- 
fore He  waits  and  wrestles,  argues  and  implores. 
Did  any  man  wish  to  impress  some  favourite  idea 
on  the  mind  of  his  familiar  companion,  and  did  he 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT.  83 

find  liim  so  reluctant  to  apprehend  it  as  is  the  sin- 
ner to  know  and  recognise  his  real  position,  the  pre- 
ceptor would  soon  abandon  the  task  in  despair,  and 
declare  his  friend  either  stupid  beyond  hope,  or  per- 
verse beyond  recovery.  But  the  Spirit  of  God  per- 
severes, and  stands  and  knocks.  O  nothing  but 
divine  and  unfathomable  love  could  sustain  Him 
amidst  such  provocations !  Ye  who  have  felt  His 
early  workings,  and  are  conscious  that  you  did  for 
a  season  resist  them,  0  how  thankful  are  you  now 
that  He  did  not  leave  you.  Are  not  your  present 
faith  and  grace  and  hope,  a  living  and  a  lasting 
monument  to  the  love  of  the  Spirit?  For  did  you 
answer  when  first  He  said.  Come  ?  Did  you  move 
when  He  essayed  to  lead  you  ?  Did  you  embrace 
salvation  when  first  He  proved  its  necessity  and 
freeness  ?  Ah  no  !  Yet  He  persisted,  and  success- 
fully persisted,  in  His  efibrts  wdth  you,  for  He  loves 
you. 

The  Spirit  also  enlightens.  The  sinful  heart  is 
covered  with  gloom.  Self-knowledge  is  absent,  and 
there  is  no  perception  of  the  only  path  to  felicity. 
Yea,  though  a  revelation  has  been  given  to  man,  he 
does  not  practically  understand  it;  'for  the  natural 
man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
neither  can  he. know  them,  for  they  are  spiritually 
discerned.'  It  is  necessary,  therefore,  that  the  Spirit 
which  gave  the  word  should  apply  it,  and  so  illumine 
the  understanding  that  it  can  experimentally  com- 
prehend it.  When  the  famous  statesman  Pitt,  on 
one  occasion    and   in    company  with  Wilberforce, 


84  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

heard  Cecil,  an  eminent  minister  in  London,  dis- 
coursing on  this  subject,  he  confessed,  at  the  close 
of  the  discourse,  that  he  did  not  in  the  least  under- 
stand it.  The  Premier  of  England,  whose  acute 
and  mighty  mind  was  equal  to  any  emergency,  could 
not  comprehend  what  was  realised  by  many  a  poor 
peasant  and  humble  cottager.  The  Spirit  begets 
within  us  a  relish  for  spiritual  truth,  and  He  shows 
us  very  clearly  its  divinity  and  adaptation.  '  Ye 
were  sometime  darkness,  but  now  are  ye  light  in 
the  Lord.'  They  who  have  been  so  enlightened  by 
the  Spirit  of  wisdom  wonder  why  truth  so  plain  was 
never  felt  in  its  reality  and  power  before.  The 
spiritual  vision  w^as  diseased,  and  refused  to  admit 
the  light  into  its  chambers.  But  the  scales  at  length 
fall,  and  light  is  seen  in  God's  light. 

ITow,  this  enlightenment  by  the  Spirit  is  surely 
the  fruit  of  His  love.  For  such  light  is  sweet,  and 
a  pleasant  thing  it  is,  by  means  of  such  a  medium, 
to  behold  the  Sun  of  Righteousness.  But  ah  !  how 
long  men  refuse  the  light,  and  coil  their  spirits  up 
against  it ;  how  they  even  love  the  darkness  rather 
than  the  light ;  and  how  numerous  are  the  strivings 
of  the  Divine  Spirit,  ere 

*0n  the  eyeballs  of  the  blind 
He  pours  celestial  light.' 

Many  continue  to  '  see  men  as  trees,  walking,'  and 
live  under  the  dim  and  troubled  shadow  of  an 
eclipse.  To  recur  to  an  illustration  analogous  to 
our  former  one.     Had  any  teacher  a  pupil  so  dull 


THE    LOVE    OF   THE    SPIRIT.  85 

as  is  a  sinner  to  learn  the  very  alphabet  of  divine 
truth,  he  would,  after  a  fair  trial,  dismiss  him  as 
either  incorrigible  or  incompetent,  and  would  not 
wait  so  mau}^  months  and  years  as  does  the  Spirit 
of  God.  He  far  outdoes,  not  in  skill  only,  but  in 
patience  too,  every  human  tutor.  Kay,  which  of  us 
has  all  the  illumination  he  might  possess  ?  or  which 
of  us  possessed  it  at  the  moment  when  it  was  offered 
to  us?  Is  there  no  prejudice  yet  to  be  overcome, 
no  twisted  opinion  yet  to  be  undone?  Is  there  not 
some  lurking  misconception,  some  obliquit}^  of 
vision  ?  And  should  none  of  these  faults  exist,  who 
among  us,  even  the  most  aged  and  intelligent,  has 
arrived  at  the  '  riches  of  the  full  assurance  of  under- 
standing?' 0  !  is  there  one  who  enjoys,  to  its  utmost 
splendour,  this  spiritual  light,  or  who  can  set  his 
conscious  seal  to  the  statement,  in  its  widest  war- 
rant of  signification,  '  Ye  have  an  unction  from  the 
Holy  One,  and  know  all  things?'  If,  then,  the 
Holy  Ghost  assist  the  memory,  and  bring  precious 
truth  to  our  remembrance,  nay,  leads  us  '  into  all 
the  truth ;'  and  if  such  industrious  patience  with 
His  awkward  j)upils  be  demanded,  will  we  not  re- 
joice in  the  assurance  of  His  love  ?  If  we  feel  it  to 
be  '  eternal  life  to  know  the  only  true  God,  and 
Jesus  Christ  whom  he  has  sent;'  if  we  feel  that  the 
eyes  of  the  understanding  have  been  opened  that 
we  may  know  ^  the  hope  of  His  calling;'  if  we  have 
just  conceptions  of  divine  truth  in  its  fairness  and 
beauty ;  if,  in  short,  '  the  darkness  is  past,  and  the 
true  light  now  shines,' — then,  surely,  our  instruction 
^8 


86  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

and  attainments  are  an  irresistible  and  liarmonioiis 
witness  to  the  love  of  the  Spirit. 

And  He  also  sanctifies.  He  changes  the  heart — 
restamps  upon  it  the  divine  image  —  restores  it  to 
its  pristine  purity  and  perfection,  and  fits  it  for 
the  glory  of  Heaven.  Oh  blessed  work  is  this !  a 
work  which  none  but  a  divine  agent  could  accom- 
plish. He  alone  who  created  the  heart,  can  re-create 
it.  Human  influence  may  achieve  a  great  deal,  but 
in  us  the  springs  of  action  and  emotion  must  be 
laid  hold  of  and  changed.  In  this  transformation 
the  Spirit  is  the  agent,  and  His  own  word  is  the  in- 
strument which  he  employs.  In  constructing  that 
w^ord,  He  has  adapted  it  to  his  gracious  purpose, 
and  He  gives  it  the  requisite  efficacy  by  His  own 
accompanying  influence.  The  Bible,  in  its  various 
parts  and  style,  so  fits  in  to  our  nature,  that  it  de- 
velopes  a  full  and  healthy  spiritual  life.  If,  then, 
His  special  work  be  to  make  man  what  he  once 
was;  to  fit  him  not  for  re-entering  Eden,  but  for 
ascending  to  a  heavenly  inheritance ;  to  make  him 
the  companion  of  the  princes  of  the  universe,  and 
the  very  counterpart  of  its  Lord,  —  does  He  not 
love  the  creatures  whom  He  thus  condescends  to 
elevate  and  purify  ?  If  He  had  formed  a  being  for 
this  high  destiny,  we  should  have  argued  that  love 
prompted  His  creative  energy ;  and  if  He  has  taken 
a  fallen  creature,  whose  sin  had  so  provoked  Him, 
and  led  to  His  withdrawal  —  taken  him  in  all  his 
guilt  and  defilement,  and  washed  him  in  the  blood 
of  the  Lamb,  sanctified  and  brought  him  back  to  a 


THE   LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT.  87 

higher  than  his  first  estate,  —  is  not  this  blessed, 
holy,  and  prolonged  operation  the  result  of  love, 
and  nothing  but  love  ? 

And,  then,  remember  how  the  Spirit  labours  in 
accomplishing  this  end  —  that  He  leaves  no  means 
unturned,  and  "no  motives  unapplied ;  that  He  is 
often  thwarted,  rebelled  against,  and  vexed,  —  and 
will  not  you  ascribe  every  spiritual  attainment,  your 
growth  in  grace,  and  your  advancing  meetness  for 
glory,  to  the  love  of  the  Spirit  ?  And  surely  this 
love,  tender  as  that  of  a  nurse  that  guides  a  feeble 
and  wayward  child,  and  inweaving  itself  with  all 
your  experience,  will  be  the  theme  of  earnest  and 
rapturous  comment  and  gratitude.  Every  breath 
of  your  spiritual  life  is  perfumed  with  the  love  of 
the  Spirit. 

*  'Tis  He  that  works  to  will ; 
'Tis  He  that  works  to  do ; 
His  is  the  power  by  which  we  act, 
His  be  the  glory  too/ 

Can  this  love  be  less  worthy  of  mention  than  that 
of  either  Father  or  Son?  The  patience  of  the 
Father  is  indeed  marvellous.  Lone;  has  He  borne 
with  men  —  with  their  unbelief  and  ino-ratitude. 
Six  thousand  years  attest  that  He  is  '  long-suffering 
and  abundant  in  goodness;'  but  during  the  same 
period  the  Spirit,  too,  has  been  striving  with  man, 
for  he  is  even  flesh.  The  Son  of  God,  during  His 
abode  on  earth,  endured  the  '  contradiction  of  sin- 
ners against  himself:'  and  has  not  the  Holy  Spirit, 


SS.  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

ever  since  the  ascension,  been  experiencing  similar 
treatment  from  rebellious  and  obstinate  man.  "With 
all  these  truths  before  us,  let  us  never  forget  the 
patient  and  conquering  loA^e  of  the  Spirit. 

5.  The  Spirit's  love  may  be  learned,  in  jS.ne,  from 
the  abode  which  He  has  chosen.  And  that  abode 
is  no  pure  or  princely  mansion ;  for  it  is  the  human 
heart.  He  who  knows  it  best,  says  of  it,  '  The  heart 
is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked.' 
He  who  '  needed  not  that  any  should  testify  of  man ; 
for  He  knew  what  was  in  man,'  bears  this  testi- 
mony — '  Out  of  the  heart  proceed  evil  thoughts, 
murders,  adulteries,  fornication,  theft,  false  witness, 
blasphemies.'  And  this  heart  is  not  fitted  up  or 
prepared  for  His  reception ;  but  He  comes  to  it  in 
its  foulness  and  dilapidation,  and  cleanses  and  deco- 
rates it  for  Himself.  Is'either  is  He  there  as  '  a  way- 
faring man,  that  turneth  aside  to  tarry  for  a  night;' 
nor  yet  as  an  accidental  or  transient  guest  —  He  is 
a  resident,  who  dwells  in  it  as  His  chosen  habita- 
tion. 'But  will  God  in  very  deed  dwell  with  men 
upon  the  earth  ?  Behold,  the  heaven,  and  the  hea- 
ven of  heavens  cannot  contain  thee,  how  much  less 
this  house  that  I  have  built!'  That  was  a  noble 
national  fane  of  which  the  royal  dedicator  spoke  — 
a  temple  built  in  splendour  to  enshrine  the  resident 
glory  of  its  divine  Architect.  But,  oh,  the  human 
heart,  so  al)jcct  and  vile,  how  will  it  contain  divinity  ? 
Yet  the  Spirit  of  purity  sets  His  affections  upon  it. 
He  enters  there  to  cast  out  all  that  is  inimical  to 
our  happiness,  and  to  fill  it  with  every  holy  grace. 
6* 


THE    LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT.  99 

There  He  is  as  counsellor,  friend,  and  comforter. 
^Vlien  you  commune  with  your  hearts,  you  com- 
mune with  Ilim,  your  bosom  friend.  "VVliat  but 
love,  we  ask,  could  prompt  Him  to  choose  such  a 
residence,  and  prolong  His  stay  in  it  ?  It  has  no 
native  attractions  for  one  who  is  *  of  purer  eyes  than 
to  behold  iniquity,  and  who  cannot  look  upon  sin.' 
And  what  provocations  does  He  not  meet  with  in 
it  ?  ^o  guest  would  endure  them,  but  would  leave 
the  place  of  his  sojourn  under  such  wanton  and  un- 
disguised insults.  The  apostle  w^arns  Christians, 
and  says,  '  Grieve  not  the  Spirit  of  God.'  When 
Israel  'rebelled,  and  vexed  his  Holy  Spirit,'  God 
'turned  to  be  their  enemy.'  Ah,  how  often  do  you 
refuse  His  counsels,  and  throw  from  you  His 
authority,  though  you  avow  that  He  is  your  In- 
structor and  Governor.  Might  He  not  in  anger  or 
in  sorrow  depart  ?  Alas !  how  often  have  you  re- 
sisted, or  at  least  shown  reluctance,  w^hen  He  would 
lead  into  deeper  and  holier  experience,  and  give 
you  a  nearer  view  of  God  and  eternity ;  when  He 
would  enable  you  to  penetrate  into  the  spirituality 
of  His  law,  and  give  His  love  a  firmer  hold  on  your 
nature ;  when  He  would  bring  you  nearer  heaven 
in  spirit,  and  fill  your  hearts  with  its  cheering  ele- 
ments? Have  you  not  too  often  in  such  a  crisis 
remained  passive  and  unexcited,  and  contented  as 
you  were  ?  And  if  He  be  still  within  you,  patiently 
bearing  all  those  repulses,  and  working  out  the 
blessed  end  of  His  mission,  can  you  doubt  His  love, 
or  reckon  it  less  than  that  or  Christ  ?     *  The  Word 


90  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

was  made  flesh.'  God  dwelt  in  humanity.  Jesus 
appeared  in  the  world  as  an  incarnate  God.  But 
does  not  the  Spirit  in  His  love  experience  a  similar 
incarnation  ?  Is  not  He  also  infleshed  when  He 
fills  the  bosoms  of  believers,  and  dwells  in  the  heart 
of  His  church  ? 

'Nov  will  He  desert  His  favorite  abode.  The  body 
dies,  but  still  He  claims  it.  It  is  His.  His  love  to 
it  is  not  cooled  by  death.  The  fondest  friend  and 
tenderest  relative  is  obliged  to  say,  '  Bury  my  dead 
out  of  my  sight;'  but  the  beloved  ashes  are  precious 
to  the  Holy  Ghost  as  the  dust  of  His  own  temple. 
And  so  in  His  love  He  watches  over  it,  and  at  the 
appointed  time  He  will  re-animate  and  re-organise 
the  scattered  particles.  ^  If  the  Spirit  of  him  who 
raised  up  Jesus  from  the  dead  dwell  in  you,  he  that 
raised  up  Christ  from  the  dead  shall  also  quicken 
your  mortal  bodies  by  his  Spirit  that  dwelleth  in 
you.'  Thus  a  more  glorious  structure  is  reared  up, 
in  unison  with  the  character  of  the  pure  Being  who 
is  to  rest  in  it  for  ever.  So  that,  if  you  know  that 
God  ^  abideth  in  you  by  the  Spirit  which  he  has 
given  you' —  if  you  feel  that  you  carry  Him  in  your 
hearts,  a  friend  of  friends,  innermost  and  attached, 
and  realise  His  presence,  and  know  the  abiding,  the 
jo3%  comfort,  power,  and  hope  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
surely  you  will  need  no  further  proof  of  '  the  love 
of  the  Spirit.' 

And,  in  fine,  the  effect  of  all  this  varied  working 
and  prolonged  abode  is  the  impartation  of  comfort. 
He  is  the  'Comforter;'  and  believers,  as  they  walk 


THE   LOVE   OF   THE   SPIRIT.  91 

in  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  walk  at  the  same  time  in 
*the  comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghost.'  He  is  ever  pre- 
sent to  assist  you,  and  the  effect  of  His  assistance  is 
comfort.  There  is  comfort  in  his  light  and  in  His 
strength,  in  the  intercession  which  He  makes,  and 
the  progressive  purity  which  He  secures.  There  is 
no  part  of  your  nature  left  unhelped  —  intellect  and 
will,  memory  and  heart,  share  in  His  assistance. 
The  result  is  peace,  and  joy,  and  assurance  —  the 
serenity  which  victory  insures,  and  the  felt  approach 
to  perfection  w^hicli  experience  is  able  to  testify. 
The  saint  is  as  one  ^  whom  his  mother  comforteth,' 
calm,  happy,  and  confident.  0  that  this  conscious- 
ness were  the  privilege  of  us  all !  Then  should  we 
have  days  of  revival  and  apostolical  triumph. 

Will  we  not  be  ever  on  our  guard  against  griev- 
ing this  Holy  Spirit  of  God?  Whatever  is  dark 
and  sensual,  cruel  and  malignant,  is  specially  opposed 
to  Him,  and  hateful  to  Him.  Flee  such  sins  as  war 
against  Him. 

Shall  we  now^  doubt  His  love,  or  undervalue  His 
work  ?  There  may  be  mystery  in  that  work,  and 
it  may  be  beyond  the  reach  of  our  analysis  ;  but  our 
experience  declares  its  reality  and  power.  0  let  us 
adore  Him  with  fervour,  and  pray  for  His  presence 
with  unceasing  importunity.  Thou  promised  Spirit 
of  the  living  God,  wilt  not  Thou  come  down  upon 
us,  and  fill  us  more  entirely  ?  We  long  for  Thee, 
we  look  for  Thee,  and  we  are  ever  in  need  of  Thee. 
We  are  ignorant,  but  Thou  art  the  Spirit  of  truth. 
We  are  impure,  but  Thou  art  the  Spirit  of  holiness. 


92  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

We  are  often  in  doubt  of  our  spiritual  state,  but 
Thou  bearest  witness  with  our  spirits.  We  are  often 
straitened  in  prayer,  but  Thou  niakest  intercession 
for  us.  We  are  in  want  of  preparation  for  heaven, 
but  thou  makest  ready  the  heart,  and  sealest  it,  and 
art  Thyself  the  '  first-fruits'  of  the  inheritance.  De- 
scend, we  implore  Thee,  descend  in  the  fulness  of 
Thy  blessing,  and  make  ns  what  we  sigh  to  be, 
and  so  restrain  and  guide  us  that  we  may  never  be 
so  far  left  to  ourselves  as  at  any  time  to  grieve  Thee. 
Amen  and  Amen. 


THE    VOTIVE   TABLET. 


LECTURE  lY. 


THE   VOTIVE   TABLET  —  OR   THE   SAINTS   RECORD  OP 
HIS    LOVE. 

A    SOLILOQUY.* 

Psalm  cxvi. 

*  I  love  tlie  Lord,  because  he  hath  heard  my  voice  and  my  siipplicor 
iions.  Because  he  hath  inclined  his  ear  unto  me,  therefore  will 
I  call  upon  him  as  long  as  Hive.  The  sorrows  of  death  com- 
passed me,  and  the  jjains  of  hell  gat  hold  upon  me:  I  found 
trouble  and  sorrow.  Then  called  I  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord : 
0  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  deliver  my  soid.  Gracious  is  the  Lord, 
and  righteous ;  yea,  our  God  is  merciful.  The  Lord  preserveth 
the  simple  :  I  was  brought  low,  and  he  helped  me.  Return  unto 
thy  rest,  0  my  soul ;  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with 
thee.  For  thou  hast  delivered  my  soul  from  death,  mine  eyes 
from  tears,  and  my  feet  from  falling.  I  ivill  walk  before  the 
Lord  in  the  land  of  the  living.  I  believed,  therefore  have  I 
spoken:  I  teas  greatly  ajfflicted.  I  said  in  my  haste.  All  men 
are  liars.  What  shall  I  reiuler  unto  the  Lord  for  all  his  bene- 
fits  toward  me?  I  will  take  the  cup  of  salvation,  and  call 
iipon  the  name  of  the  T^ord.     I  will  pay  my  vows  unto  the  Lord 

^  So  vivid  is  the  rehearsal  of  experience  in  this  Psalm,  that, 

in  our  exposition  of  it,  vre  have  deviated  so  far  from  usual  cus- 
tom as  to  preserve  the  construction  of  the  first  person  "which 
characterises  it,  and  gives  it  the  form  of  a  soliloquy. 


94  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

now  in  the  j)resence  of  all  his  people.  Precious  in  the  sight  of 
the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints.  O  Lord,  tridy  I  am  thy 
servant :  lam  thy  servant,  and  the  son  of  thine  handmaid  :  thou 
hast  loosed  my  bonds.  I  ivill  offer  to  thee  tlie  saxn^ifice  of  thanks- 
giving, and  ivill  call  upon  the  name  of  tlie  Lord.  I  ivill  pay 
my  votes  unto  the  Lord  now  in  the  presence  of  all  his  people,  in 
the  courts  of  the  Lord's  house,  in  the  midst  of  thee,  0  Jerusalem, 
Praise  ye  the  Lord.' 

'I  LOVE  THE  Lord.'  I  bless  tlie  Lord  that  I  love 
Him,  and  that  my  carnal  heart,  which  was  once 
enmity  against  Him,  has  been  enabled  and  induced 
by  His  grace  to  love  Him.  I  complain  often,  very 
often,  alas !  that  my  love  to  Him  is  so  cold  and 
languid,  as  to  be  scarcely  worthy  of  the  hallowed 
name.  I  feel,  at  the  same  time,  that  what  I  should 
not  love  does  hold  my  affection,  and  that,  w^hile  I 
am  convinced  of  its  worthlessness,  my  wayward 
heart  is  drawn  toward  it.  Still  it  is  my  study  to 
love  Him ;  and  my  prayer  is,  to  love  Him  more. 
If  I  know  myself — if  I  can  form  a  right  judgment 
of  my  ruling  passion,  it  is  to  love  the  Lord.  0  for 
the  baptism  of  fire  to  consume  every  earthy  emotion, 
and  give  fervour  and  flame  to  all  that  is  gracious 
and  divine  within  me  !  0  how  I  long  for  this  blessed 
result !  Thou  Spirit  of  love,  shed  abroad  this  love 
in  my  heart;  fan  it,  and  feed  it  with  the  fuel  it 
needs  and  craves.  So  reveal  the  Father  in  His  love- 
liness, and  the  Son  in  His  spiritual  beauty,  that  I 
shall  be  ravished  and  overpowered ;  and  so  touch 
my  heart  with  the  '  live  coal,'  that  I  shall  be  brought 
to  cry  in  an  ardour  yet  unfelt  —  I  love  the  Lord. 


THE   VOTIVE   TABLET.  95 

!N"or  am  I  ashamed  of  avowing  this  love ;  and  while 
my  lips  pronounce  the  avowal,  may  my  heart  re- 
spond, and  may  my  life  be  for  ever  a  witness  to  seal 
it.  Thou  God  hast  bidden  me  love  Thee  —  love 
Thee  with  all  my  soul.  Alas !  my  love  to  Thee  is 
not  w^hat  Thou  askest  in  amount,  but  it  is  sincere 
in  nature;  and  wilt  Thou  not  accept  it  for  the  sake 
of  Him  who  does  not  '  break  the  bruised  reed,  nor 
quench  the  smoking  flax?' 

I  was  once  hostile  and  indifferent  to  Him — and  I 
shudder  at  the  past  and  its  sin  ;  but  then  I  did  not 
know  Him.  I  was  a  wilful  stranger  to  His  charac- 
ter and  grace.  I  gazed  on  His  universe,  and  bowed 
to  His  power.  I  looked  on  His  sun,  and  was  awed 
by  its  glory.  The  stars  of  the  sky  penetrated  me 
with  the  idea  of  His  immensity.  I  heard  His 
thunders,  and  trembled.  I  surveyed  hill  and  valley, 
wood  and  river,  and  drank  in  their  beauty  and  glad- 
ness. I  saw  Thy  hand  in  the  seasons,  amidst  buds 
and  flowers,  fruits  and  harvests  —  amidst  songs  of 
birds,  and  the  life  and  joy  of  nature  around  me ;  — 
and  yet,  how  often  in  my  delicious  reverie,  did  I 
practically  forget  that  '  God  is  love.'  And  even 
while  glimpses  of  the  truth  stole  upon  me,  how 
evanescent  was  the  sensation.  I  sometimes  called 
to  mind  the  divine  goodness  to  me  personally,  from 
early  youth  and  upwards;  how  it  had  soothed  me 
in  grief,  led  me  in  difiiculty,  recovered  me  from 
sickness,  and  crowned  me  Svith  lo\nng-kindness 
and  tender  mercies;'  yet  the  reminiscence  awoke 
but  a  feeble  gratitude  ;  the  frequency  of  His  bounties 


yo  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

strangely  tending  to  diminish  their  vakie,  and  my 
daily  familiarity  with  them  leading  me  the  less  to 
esteem  them.  But  when  at  length  my  heart,  under 
deep  conviction,  could  find  no  refuge  but  in  God; 
when  it  poured  its  plaint  into  His  ear,  and  He  heard 
and  blessed ;  when  He  pointed  to  the  cross,  and  to 
His  own  Son  stretched  upon  it ;  and  when  I  looked 
as  He  pointed,  and  beheld  the  Lamb  of  God  bleed- 
ing there  and  dying — 0  then  I  got  a  new  discovery 
—  I  saw  Him  as  I  had  never  seen  Him  before,  and 
saw  Him  as  nature,  providence,  and  my  own  history 
had  never  represented  Him.  I  saw  Him  as  my  God 
in  Christ,  yearning  for  my  salvation,  and  I  could 
not  but  gaze  and  wonder — I  could  not  but  trust  and 
love  the  Lord.  My  love  is  not  love  without  a  cause. 
It  springs  not  from  report,  but  from  ni}'  own  ex- 
perience. He  has  loved  me,  and  given  me  ample 
and  repeated  proofs  of  it.  ^He  hath  heard  my 
voice  and  my  supplications.' 

O  it  w^as  a  sad  and  melancholy  time  when  my 
love  to  the  Lord  was  formed  and  rivetted  within 
me.  I  was  in  awful  dismay  when  I  obtained,  for 
the  first  time,  a  view  of  myself  and  my  position ; 
and  so  agonising  was  my  terror,  that  I  felt  as  if  life 
were  about  to  leave  me,  and  eternal  ruin  were  to  be 
my  speedy  and  hopeless  destiny.  '  The  sorrows  of 
death  compassed  me;  the  pains  of  hell  gat  hold 
upon  me  :  I  found  trouble  and  sorrow.'  Mind  and 
body  were  alike  in  pain.  I  grieved  to  think  that  I 
must  die  so  soon,  and  I  was  distracted  with  the  an- 
ticipation of  what   should  befall   me   after  death. 


THE    VOTIVE   TABLET.  97 

The  shroud  and  the  coffin  were  the  least  terrible 
part  of  the  picture ;  there  rang  in  my  ear  the  knell 
of  the  awful  doom,  '  Depart  from  me,  ye  cursed.' 

*  My  bones  were  filled  with  pain,  and  the  multitude 
of  my  bones  with  strong  pain.'  *  I  was  weary  with 
my  groaning — I  watered  my  couch  with  my  tears.' 
'Day  and  night  thy  hand  was   heavy  upon   me.' 

*  Thou  scaredst  me  with  dreams,  and  didst  terrify 
me  through  visions.'  I  felt  that  '  I  was  deprived 
of  the  residue  of  my  years,'  and  I  said,  'I  shall  be- 
hold man  no  more  with  the  inhabitants  of  the 
world.'  For  it  was  on  a  sick-bed  that  those  awful 
visitations  reached  me — in  a  period  of  suffering  and 
retirement.  And  where  could  I  find  relief?  Every 
false  refuge  was  laid  low,  when  I  was  brought  face 
to  face  with  God.  Where  could  I  find  relief?  I 
durst  not  venture  on  my  own  righteousness,  for  I 
felt  that  I  had  none.  I  could  not  harden  my  spirit, 
the  crisis  was  so  sharp  and  frightful.  I  could  not 
sleep  on  in  indifference,  for  the  ghastly  portals  of 
death,  and  beyond  them  the  'great  white  throne,' 
rose  up  before  me.  What  could  I  do?  —  whither 
could  I  betake  myself?  I  yielded  at  length  to  the 
necessity,  and  I  prayed  — '  Then  called  I  upon  the 
name  of  the  Lord.'  '  This  poor  man  cried,  and  the 
Lord  heard  him.'  And  O  what  relief  in  such  prayer ! 
I  laid  open  my  bosom  to  the  God  of  love.  I  con- 
fessed my  trespasses,  bemoaned  my  utter  unworthi- 
ness,  and  cast  myself  on  His  mercy.  The  burden 
of  my  prayer  still  was,  '  0  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  de- 
liver my  soul.'     Again  and  again,  when  my  spirit 

9 


98  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

was  overwhelmed  within  me,  did  I  betake  myself  to 
the  '  Kock  that  is  higher  than  I.' 

The  change  was  wonderful  beyond  expression. 
He  whom  I  had  so  often  offended,  and  of  whose 
character  I  had  heretofore  possessed  so  dim  and  im- 
perfect a  conception.  He  in  His  infinite  tenderness 
and  pity  ^  inclined  his  ear  nnto  me.'  He  stooped  to 
hear,  and  He  was  not  slow  to  answer.  As  He 
listened,  He  forgave  and  blessed.  He  delivered  my 
soul.  Yes,  of  all  thy  terror  He  freed  thee  —  gave 
thee  a  lasting  proof  of  His  affection  —  hushed  all 
thy  distractions  —  soothed  thee,  and  bade  thee  live. 
Love  the  Lord,  O  my  soul.  These  were  the  throes 
of  thy  birth,  when  His  power  and  grace  took  posses- 
sion of  thee,  purged  thy  guilt,  gave  thee  the  sense 
of  His  favour,  quickened  thee,  and  began  to  impress 
on  thee  His  own  glorious  image.  Never  forget  the 
memorable  epoch  —  it  was  a  day  of  days ;  and  aye 
as  thou  revertest  to  it,  ratify  the  vow  — '  therefore 
will  I  call  upon  him  as  long  as  I  live.'  He  heard 
me  then,  and  He  will  hear  me  again.  I  will  wait 
for  Him,  and  He  will  always  answer.  In  whatever 
strait  I  am,  whatever  is  my  perplexity  or  my  want, 
I  will  always  make  it  an  errand  to  Thy  throne. 
Thou  hast  been  so  kind  that  I  will  make  Thy  kind- 
ness my  unceasing  jDlea.  If  my  faith  should  falter, 
I  will  recall  Thy  generosity,  and  it  shall  *  fill  my 
mouth  with  arguments.'  ]^or  do  I  fear  that  Thou 
wilt  be  wearied  with  me  for  my  continuous  impor- 
tunity, or  that  Thy  gifts  will  soon  be  exhausted. 
Though  others  get,  I  can  get  too ;  and  by  my  get- 


THE   VOTIVE   TABLET.  99 

ting,  they  arc  not  deprived.  Thou  canst  '  do  ex- 
ceeding abundantly,  above  all  we  ask  or  think.' 
What  Thou  hast  given  is  only  a  pledge  of  what 
Thou  art  willing  to  give.  O  fill  me  with  desires, 
and  deepen  them,  for  Thou  wilt  abundantly  satisfy 
them.  I  now  rely  on  Thy  promise.  I  will  call  upon 
Thee,  and  yet  more  and  more,  *  while  I  have  any 
being.'  So  long  as  one  aspiration  remains  —  so 
long  as  any  blessing  is  not  given  in  its  full  extent 
—  up  to  the  time  that  prayer  shall  be  changed  into 
praise,  will  I  call  upon  Thee.  Let  my  last  words 
be  an  invocation,  and  my  last  sigh  a  prayer;  let  the 
accents  of  supplication  here  be  gently  blended  into 
those  of  praise  above  ! 

O  is  there  not  every  cause  why  I  should  love  the 
Lord  !  He  did  not  put  me  off,  or  refuse  to  listen. 
And  if  I  have  been  so  welcomed  and  so  delivered ; 
if  in  that  period  of  dark  days  and  troublous  nights 
I  cried  and  He  heard  me ;  if  then,  when  earth  was 
vain,  and  all  '  refuge  failed  me,'  I  found  immediate 
succour  in  God  ;  if  He  has  forgiven  all  mine  iniqui- 
ties, healed  all  my  diseases,  and  redeemed  my  life 
from  destruction,  there  is  surely  every  reason  why 
I  should  love  Him,  and  proclaim  my  love  to  Him. 
Yes,  let  me  repeat  it,  as  the  daily  emotion  of  my 
heart,  I  love  the  Lord. 

And  why  need  I  conceal  my  reason  —  it  is  not 
peculiar  to  me :  '  Gracious  is  the  Lord,  and  right- 
eous;  yea,  our  God  is  merciful.'  The  God  who 
afflicted  me,  and  in  my  affliction  so  drew  me  to 
Himself,  is  a  God  of  equit3\     I  did  not  complain  of 


100  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

Thee  or  to  Thee.  '  I  know,  0  God,  that  thy  judg- 
ments are  right,  and  that  thou  in  falthfuhiess  hast 
afflicted  me.'  My  sins  merited  far  more  than  I  en- 
dured. But  'grace  reigned  through  righteousness.' 
I  now  can  understand  what  Thy  servant  meant 
when  he  said,  '  Our  hght  afflictions.'  Then  I  re- 
garded the  declaration  as  unearthly  romantic,  and 
far  beyond  the  truth,  and  I  was  inclined  in  anger 
at  it  to  cry  the  more  fiercely,  '  Behold,  all  ye  that 
pass  by,  and  see  if  there  be  an}^  sorrow  like  unto  my 
sorrow.'  I  thought  myself  a  '  mark'  specially  set 
up  for  an  extraordinary  stroke,  and  I  indignantly 
wondered  why  I  should  be  so  singled  out.  '  So  fool- 
ish was  I  and  ignorant.'  But  now  I  acknowledge 
His  righteousness  and  grace,  and  I  trust  I  can  say, 
sincerely  and  intelligently,  'My  light  affliction.*  Is 
it  not  '  light'  compared  with  what  I  deserved,  and 
light  in  comparison  with  what  Jesus  endured  for 
me  ?  Is  it  not  '  light,'  for  it  lasts  '  but  a  moment,' 
in  contrast  with  eternity  ?  And  I  cannot  but  re- 
gard it  as  '  light,'  when  I  think  of  its  efl:ectual  con- 
nection with  the  'far  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory.'  O  what  kindness  I  enjoyed  — 
what  promises  to  soothe  me,  and  what  influences 
of  the  Comforter.  What  before  was  theory  to  me, 
then  became  matter  of  experience.  I  understood 
because  I  felt.  Grace  and  mere}-  waited  on  me,  in 
tenderness  and  sympathy.  There  could  be  no 
higher  love  than  to  chastise  me  —  to  alarm  in  order 
to  convince  me,  and  to  convince  in  order  to  bless 
and  save  me.     And  do  not  I  love  Him  because  He 


THE   VOTIVE   TABLET.  101 

is  SO  '  righteous'  as  to  show  me  my  sin  in  my  sufter- 
ing,  and  so  'gracious'  as  to  lay  His  hand  on  me  so 
lightly,  remove  it  so  speedily,  sanctify  the  dispen- 
sation, and  make  it  the  means  of  permanent  health 
to  my  soul !     I  love  the  Lord. 

They  who  cannot  save  themselves  are  saved  by 
God.  They  who  have  no  means  of  self-defence  are 
shielded  by  Him.  '  The  Lord  preserveth  the  sim- 
ple ;'  but  the  proud,  the  w^ary,  and  the  self-satisfied 
look  not  to  Him,  but  to  themselves,  and  therefore 
are  enveloped  in  ruin.  '  I  was  brought  low,  and  he 
helped  me.'  He  helps  the  helpless.  I  was  weak 
and  poor,  and  He  had  compassion  on  me.  Low 
indeed  was  I,  feeble  and  depressed — my  health  gone, 
and  my  spirits  sunk ;  but  He  restored  me.  There 
^vas  a  soft  slumber,  and  a  placid  awakening  —  then 
came  convalescence,  growing  health,  renewed  se- 
renity, and  final  recovery ;  but  along  with  all  this 
there  was  given  me  assured  possession  of  my  Father's 
love  —  of  Him  who  knew  my  frame,  and  remem- 
bered that  I  ^vas  dust.  Can  I  ever  forget  Thy  kind- 
ness in  my  distress  ?  Thy  one  hand  did  strike,  but 
Thy  other  hand  did  heal  me.  Surely  I  must  love  the 
Lord,  my  Physician. 

'No  wonder  is  there  that,  '  0  my  soul,  thou  hast 
said  unto  the  Lord,  Thou  art  my  Lord.'  Thou  hast 
had  many  wanderings.  Far  and  near  hast  thou 
flown  in  thy  vexing  search.  From  flower  to  flower 
hast  thou  flitted,  delighted  for  an  instant  with  each, 
and  never  finding  in  any  what  thou  didst  crave. 
Disappointed  in  one  region,  thou  hast  travelled  to 

Q  1-' 


102  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

another;  dissatisfied  in  one  pursuit,  tliou  hast  re- 
sorted to  another.  Philosophy  only  tantalised,  and 
pleasure  only  cloyed  thee.  The  deity  of  Science 
was  vailed,  and  the  beauty  of  Art  was  without 
spiritual  fascination.  Fatigued  and  chafed,  whither 
wilt  thou  go?  Return  to  thy  rest,  O  my  soul.' 
Thou  hast  now  got  what  thou  wast  so  vainly  in 
quest  of.  In  the  bosom  of  Him  who  created  me,  I 
have  found  repose.  There  is  no  rest  for  any  spirit 
Thou  hast  made,  save  in  the  bosom  of  Him  who 
made  it.  And  now  abide  in  thy  rest ;  what  should 
tempt  thee  to  leave  it  ?  All  thou  w^ishest  and  liopest 
is  there,  —  a  spring  of  joy  to  drink  of,  and  an  atmo- 
sphere of  love  to  revel  in.  0  never,  never  cast  thy- 
self loose  again.  That  rest  which  thou  enjo3'est 
shall  be  thy  eternal  haven.  It  was  long  open  for 
thee  ere  thou  wouldest  enter  it,  and  it  might  have 
been  shut  upon  thee,  but  '  the  Lord  dealt  bountifully 
with  thee.'  I  must  surely  extol  the  grace  which  has 
brought  me  into  it ;  and  while  I  am  in  it, 

*  I  must  love  on ;  0  God, 
This  bosom  must  love  on:  but  let  Thy  breath 
Touch  and  make  pure  the  flame  that  knows  not  death, 
Bearing  it  up  to  heaven.  Love's  own  abode.' 

I  have  seen  the  infant  worn  out,  nestle  on  its  mo- 
ther's bosom,  and  sink  into  slumber.  I  have  seen 
the  ship,  driven  by  the  gale,  glide  into  the  land- 
locked harbour,  and  at  length  drop  her  anchor, 
gather  up  her  canvas,  and  repose  peacefully  on  her 
own  shadow.     I  have  seen  the  bird  beat  up  against 


THE    VOTIVE    TABLET.  103 

the  storm,  till  slie  found  a  spot  of  shelter,  and  folded 
her  weary  wing  under  the  cover  of  a  rock.  I  have 
seen  the  streamlet  tossing  and  leaping  from  the  hrow 
of  the  mountain,  till  it  descended  into  the  plain, 
and  found  rest  in  the  great  and  undisturbed  waters. 
But  all  I  have  seen  cannot  image  out  the  sweetness 
and  joy  of  that  tranquillity  which  my  spirit  has  in 
God.  '  Return  unto  thy  rest,  O  my  soul,  for  the 
Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with  thee.'  Thou  hast 
lavished  every  kindness  upon  me.  From  the  most 
awful  of  evils  hast  Thou  freed  me.  Thy  love  alone 
could  prompt  to  it,  and  Thy  power  alone  could  effect 
it.  For  '  Thou  hast  delivered  my  soul  from  death.' 
O  chiefest  mercy  !  '  from  death' — a  death  of  deaths 
—  in  the  loss  of  Thy  favour,  and  under  the  wither- 
ing of  Thy  frown.  And  Thou  didst  also  deliver 
'mine  eyes  from  tears,  and  my  feet  from  falUng.' 
Thou  hast  wiped  away  the  sad  and  bitter  tear.  Thy 
hand  alone  has  the  requisite  softness  and  power. 
Thou  didst  preserve  me  in  life,  when  Thou  didst 
save  my  soul ;  '  the  life  that  now  is  and  that  which 
is  to  come,'  was  Thy  double  and  simultaneous  gift. 
The  te^  started  at  the  thought  of  death ;  but  Thy 
love  threw  its  radiance  on  it,  and  it  glistened  as  it 
fell.  Thou  hast  *  set  my  feet  on  a  rock,  and  esta- 
blished my  goings' — '  Thou  that  liftest  me  up  from 
the  gates  of  death.'  That  blessed  period  must  ever 
live  in  my  memor\^ — nothing  can  obliterate  it ;  years 
may  pass  away,  but  that  epoch  will  still  stand  out 
in  its  brightness  and  grace.  AW  that  happens  to  me 
but  reminds  me  of  it.     Every  blessing  I  enjoy,  every 


104  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

prayer  I  present,  every  psalm  I  chaunt,  every  hope 
I  cherish,  all  the  evil  I  escape,  and  all  the  good  I 
possess,  carries  me  back  to  the  primal  benefaction — 
when  '  all  old  things  passed  away'  with  my  agony, 
and  all  things  put  on  an  aspect  of  gladness  with  my 
renewal.  And  what  shall  keep  me  from  again  de- 
claring, with  a  fuller  heart  and  in  a  bolder  tone — I 
LOVE  THE  Lord. 

Nor  shall  this  love  be  inactive  within  me.  As  it 
throbs  in  my  heart,  it  shall  give  fervour  and  fresh- 
ness of  consecration  to  my  life  :  '  I  will  walk  before 
the  Lord  in  the  land  of  the  living.'  If  I  have  life, 
shall  I  sit  and  mope ;  shall  I  fold  my  arms,  and 
enjoy  the  luxury  in  supineness  and  indolence ;  shall 
I  still  have  the  attitude  of  an  invalid,  —  when  such 
life  beats  in  every  pulse  ?  No ;  ^  I  will  walk  before 
the  Lord  in  the  land  of  the  living.'  I  shall  occupy 
myself  in  serving  my  God ;  my  whole  life  shall  be 
devoted  to  Him.  •  Lord,  what  wilt  Thou  have  me 
to  do.'  As  I  walk,  my  tongue  shall  carry  Thy 
praises  upon  it ;  whatever  my  hands  find  to  do,  shall 
be  done  in  Thy  presence,  and  as  a  sacrifice  to  Thee. 
Before  Thee  let  my  every  thought  be  opened,  and 
my  every  purpose  be  formed.  Before  Thee  let  my 
every  wish  originate,  and  my  every  word  be  uttered. 
Before  Thee,  and  Thy  smile  beaming  on  me — before 
Thee,  and  Thy  Spirit  guiding  me,  let  me  ever  walk. 
There  are  those  who  seek  not  to  walk  before  Thee, 
and  1  was  once  among  them ;  who  try  to  lounge  be- 
hind Thee,  as  if  they  could  evade  Thy  vision,  and 
find  a  genial  gloom  in  the  shadow  of  Thy  throne. 


THE   VOTIVE    TABLET.  105 

They  wish  not  Thy  presence,  hut  would  flee  from  it. 
'God  hath  forgotten,'  say  they;  and  thus  they  re- 
peat their  dream,  '  He  hideth  His  face,  He  will  never 
see  it.'  The  first  man  sought  away  from  Thee  ;  hut 
the  thunder  of  Thy  voice  brought  him  trembling  to 
Thy  feet.  Thy  prophet  of  old  attempted  to  flee 
from  Thee ;  but  thy  storm  caught  him  and  yoked 
him  again  to  Thy  message.  But  let  me  ever  rejoice 
in  Thy  presence ;  let  me  feel  it,  as  Thy  flowers  feel 
Thy  sun-light — to  be  life  and  joy.  Before  Thee  let 
me  ever  walk,  and  Thou  wilt  anticipate  every  wish, 
ward  off  every  danger,  and  select  for  me  every  step. 
Nearer  and  nearer  let  me  come  to  gaze  on  Thy 
radiance  and  love,  till  at  last  I  approach  that  pre- 
sence more  closely  than  angels  dare,  and  chaunt  a 
melody  which  the  seraphs  cannot  learn  to  sing. 
There  love  shall  still  be  the  music  of  the  anthem, 
and  the  spirit  of  every  occupation  and  enjoyment 
shall  be  in  harmonj^  with  my  dear  and  delightful 
avowal,  I  LOVE  the  Lord. 

The  troubles  that  passed  over  me  would  have 
flung  me  into  desperation,  but  '  I  believed'  in  God. 
Ah,  how  dark  and  wretched  should  I  have  been 
without  such  faith  —  like  a  withered  leaf  of  autumn, 
tossed  by  the  winds  into  the  swollen  current.  I  did 
not  let  go  my  confidence.  Though  I  have  told  my 
afliictions  without  abatement,  it  is  only  to  enhance 
the  glory  of  my  deliverance.  In  no  sullen  fit  '  have 
I  spoken'  of  my  suflerings.  'I  was  greatly  afflicted,' 
and  my  mention  of  my  agony  has  been  to  glorify 
mv  Saviour-God.     After  He  revealed  Himself  to  me 


I 


106  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

I  never  doubted,  l^o,  never ;  and  '  tbongli  He  slay 
me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him.' 

As  I  looked  around  me,  I  felt  the  vanity  of  all 
human  things.  There  was  no  refuge  in  man.  They 
could  not  do  for  me  either  as  they  desired  or  as  they 
professed.  Trust  in  them  brought  only  chagrin  and 
;^exation.     Indeed,  what  can  any  human  aid  do  for 

w^ounded  spirit?  The  balm  of  Gilead  cannot 
minister  to  it  —  words  of  earthly  solace  fall  on  the 
ear  without  effect :  '  miserable  comforters  are  they 
all.'  What  is  the  world  to  one  under  suffering;  to 
one  labouring  under  disease,  and  under  conviction 
of  sin  ?     To  me  it  was  all  hoUowness  and  vanity. 

'  Earth's  cup 
Is  poisoned  ;  her  renown  most  infamous  ; 
Her  gold,  seem  as  it  may,  is  really  dust ; 
Her  titles,  slanderous  names  ;  her  praise,  reproach  ; 
Her  strength,  an  idot's  boast ;  her  wisdom,  blind  ; 
Her  gain,  eternal  loss  ;  her  hope,  a  dream  ; 
Her  love,  her  friendship,  enmity  with  God  ; 
Her  promises,  a  lie  ;  her  smile,  a  harlot's  ; 
Her  beauty,  paint  and  rotten  within  ;  her  pleasures, 
Deadly  assassins  masked;  her  laughter,  grief; 
Her  breasts,  the  stings  of  death  ;  her  total  sum  — 
Her  all  —  most  total  vanity  !' 

So  that  'I  said  in  my  haste,  all  men  are  liars.'  But 
the  contrast  cheers  me.  From  men  I  turn  away, 
and  lift  my  gaze  upwards  to  the  source  of  refuge 
and  blessing.  0  it  is  He,  and  He  alone  who  gave 
me  comfort,  who  heard  my  prayer,  and  bade  me 
live.     Such  is  my  sense  of  His  mercy;    such  my 


THE    VOTIVE   TABLET.  107 

overwhelming  consciousness  of  His  love,  that  I  know 
not  what  return  to  make :  '  What  shall  I  render 
unto  the  Lord  for  all  His  benefits  toward  me?'  I 
cannot  answer  my  own  question.  I  find  no  gift 
worthy  of  the  occasion  ;  none  can  I  commend  as  an 
adequate  expression  of  my  gratitude.  For  every- 
thing I  have  is  His  already ;  and  I  can  only  ofl'er 
Him  His  own.  The  gem  and  the  victim,  the  gold 
and  the  incense,  come  not  up  to  my  estimate  of  ob- 
ligation ;  and  they  are  but  a  mean  offering  after  all. 

*  The  best  return  for  one  like  me, 

So  wretched  and  so  poor, 
Is  from  His  gifts  to  draw  a  plea 
And  ask  Him  still  for  more. 

*  I  cannot  serve  Him  as  I  ought  — 

No  work  have  I  to  boast ; 
Yet  would  I  glory  in  the  thought 
That  I  shall  owe  Him  most/ 

'What  shall  I  render?'  I  have  no  substantial 
gift ;  but  I  will  give  my  ardent  praise,  and  seal  it 
in  the  sacramental  goblet :  '  I  will  take  the  cup  of 
salvation,  and  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord.' 
Such  a  thank-offering  —  loving  and  ardent  —  the 
devout  and  genuine  consecration  of  the  heart  He 
will  prefer.  With  the  cup  of  '  the  communion  of 
the  blood  of  Christ'  in  my  hand,  Lord,  I  give  ni}^- 
self  to  Thee.  For  Christ's  sake  accept  me ;  wield 
me  for  Thy  service,  and  fashion  me  for  Thy  glory. 
If  thou  sendest  suffering,  I  will  bear  it  in  Thy 
patience ;  if  Thou  layest  on  me  any  commission,  I 


108  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

will  execute  it  in  Thy  strength.  Bid  me  go,  and  I 
will  go;  beckon  me  to  come,  and  I  will  come;  say- 
to  Thy  servant  do  this,  and  I  will  do  it.  Lord,  I 
am  Thine,  pledged  in  this  cup  of  salvation ;  and 
again  will  I  record  it  —  I  love  the  Lord. 

Xor  shall  my  gift  be  rendered  in  secret.  Mine 
was  a  public  deliverance,  and  mine  shall  be  a  pub- 
lic thanksgiving.  ^I  will  pay  my  vows  unto  the 
Lord  now  in  the  presence  of  all  His  people.'  What 
I  vowed  I  will  pay  cheerfully  :  '  what  my  lips  utter- 
ed, and  my  mouth  spake  when  I  was  in  trouble.' 
Ye  who  were  around  me ;  who  saw  me  laid  low,  so 
abject  and  agonised  ;  who  beheld  the  turmoil  of  my 
soul,  and  the  fevered  sufferings  of  my  frame ;  who 
witnessed  my  moaning  cry  for  help,  and  were  spec- 
tators of  my  relief;  — in  your  presence  will  I  ratify 
my  vows ;  and  the  Lord  I  love  will  accept  them : 
'The  humble  shall  see  it  and  be  glad,  and  your 
hearts  shall  live  that  seek  the  Lord.'  'My  praise 
shall  be  of  thee  in  the  great  congregation.'  '  I  cried 
unto  him  with  my  voice,  and  he  shall  be  extolled 
with  my  tongue.'  'He  did  not  turn  away  my 
prayer,'  and  He  will  not  turn  away  my  praise.  'I 
will  praise  the  name  of  the  Lord  with  a  song,  and 
will  magnify  him  with  thanksgiving.  This  also 
shall  please  the  Lord  better  than  an  ox  or  bullock 
that  hath  horns  and  hoof  '  I  am  as  a  wonder  unto 
many,'  and  many  shall  listen  to  my  grateful  acknow- 
ledgments. 'Let  my  mouth  be  filled  with  thy 
praise  and  thy  honour  all  the  day  long.'     'Open 


THE   VOTIVE   TABLET.  109 

imto  me  the  gates  of  righteousness,  I  will  go  into 
them  and  I  will  praise  the  Lord.' 

*  Here  in  Thy  courts,  I  leave  my  vow, 

And  Thy  rich  grace  record  ; 
Witness  ye  saints,  who  hear  me  now. 
If  I  forsake  the  Lord/ 

My  soul  drew  nigh  unto  death,  but  Thou  hast 
brought  me  up.  '  The  dead  praise  not  thee,  neither 
any  that  go  down  into  silence.'  'The  Lord  hath 
chastened  me  sore,  but  he  hath  not  given  me  over 
unto  death.'  Xow  I  know  that  'precious  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints.'  Pre- 
cious is  that  death,  for  He  helps  them  in  life,  and 
does  not  abruptly  dismiss  them  from  the  world; 
precious  to  Him,  for  He  vouchsafes  to  them  His 
gracious  presence,  and  His  Son  for  their  sakes  has 
conquered  death ;  precious  in  His  sight,  for  it  hap- 
pens only  when  He  permits.  Their  soul  was  pre- 
cious, for  He  redeemed  it,  and  He  has  sanctified  it ; 
and  unspeakably  precious  does  He  feel  it  to  be  at 
the  moment  when  it  leaves  its  tabernacle,  and  as- 
cends upw^ard  to  His  bosom.  And  I  have  seen  upon 
the  death-bed  of  a  saint  how  precious  w^as  his  death  ! 
When  Thy  hand  was  first  laid  upon  him,  he  sub- 
mitted indeed,  but  with  sore  struggle,  and  there  was 
intense  desire  for  recovery.  He  had  pictured  to 
himself  a  long,  happy,  and  useful  life.  But  as  days 
passed.  Thy  grace  gained  the  victory,  and  gradually 
was  he  enabled  to  say,  'Kot  my  will,  but  thine  be 
done.'  One  who  saw  him  daily  might  have  marked 
10 


110  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

step  after  step  of  tlie  visible  progress,  not  in  resig- 
nation only,  but  in  faitb  as  it  brightened,  and  in 
hope  as  it  reached  its  'full  assurance.'  0  how  un- 
speakably precious  such  a  training  —  when  Thy 
grace  lays  hold  of  the  soul,  and  fetches  it  '  out  of 
the  depths  ;'  reveals  Thy  glory  yet  more  fully,  brings 
forth  one  promise  after  another  yet  more  forcibly, 
unvails  the  tender  and  indissoluble  relations  of  the 
covenant,  imparts  triumph  over  every  temptation, 
and  so  prepares  for  death,  and  ripens  for  future 
glory !  And  thus  the  dying  believer  comes  to  have 
no  will  but  Thine  —  is  ready  to  leave  the  world 
without  a  pang  —  can  speak  of  his  departure  with 
an  animating  smile,  and  extol  the  love  of  His  Fa- 
ther who  is  soon  to  bring  home  His  child.  He  feels 
that  he  is  Thine,  and  that  Thou  vouchest  for  the 
safety  of  Thine  own.  There  may  be  pains,  but  he 
murmurs  not;  spasms  of  expiring  nature,  but  he 
complains  not;  a  dark  step,  but  he  shrinks  not. 
At  length  he  pillows  his  dying  head  on  the  bosom 
of  Immanuel,  and  falls  asleep  in  Jesus.  Farewell, 
but  for  a  season.  Thou  art  before  us,  but  we  dare 
not  envy  thee.  "What  wonders  tHou  hast  now  seen, 
what  praises  thou  hast  now  sung,  what  a  full  tide 
of  joy  is  now  in  thy  bosom !  What  are  now  thy 
thoughts  of  Him  who  died  ?  Couldst  thou  express 
them  in  human  words  ?  As  we  gaze  on  thy  coffin 
lid,  and  lower  the  precious  and  beloved  dust,  our 
eye  HUs,  and  the  tear  falls.  But  we  dry  it.  For 
soon,  very  soon,  shall  we  be  with  thee,  to  be  locked 


THE   VOTIVE   TABLET.  Ill 

again  in  friendship,  and  to  walk  with  one  another 
while  we  both  walk  with  God. 

*  I  saw  when  the  time  of  his  release  was  come, 

And  I  longed  for  a  congregated  world  to  behold  that  dying  saint. 

As  the  aloe  is  green  and  well-looking  till  the  last,  best  summer 

of  its  age, 
And  then  hangeth  out  its  golden  bells  to  mingle  glory  with 

corruption  — 
Such  was  the  end  of  this  righteous  one. 
His  filmy  eye  was  bright  with  love  from  heaven  ; 
His  every  look  it  beamed  praise,  as  worshipping  with  seraphs. 
What  honey-comb  was  hived  upon  his  lips,  eloquent  of  gratitude 

and  prayer; 
What  triumph  shined  serene  upon  that  clammy  brow ; 
What  glory,  flickering,  transparent,  upon  those  thin  cheeks ; 
What  beauty  on  his  face  !' 

Yes,  surely  and  beyond  all  doubt,  *  precious  in 
the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints.' 
That  death  is  of  high  price,  for  it  is  to  the  saint 
great  'gain.'  When  I  think  of  leaving  earth,  with 
its  imperfect  society  and  occupations  —  its  brief  and 
scanty  enjoyment,  I  think,  at  the  same  time,  of 
entering  heaven,  where  those  around  me  are  robed 
in  purity  and  '  walk  in  white,'  and  where  I  shall  see 
His  face,  and  praise  Him  in  rapturous  hallelujahs ; 
where  no  sin  shall  cloud,  and  no  infirmity  shall  dis- 
tract ;  where  the  Sabbath  never  comes  to  an  end,- 
and  the  congregation  never  breaks  up ;  where  the 
heart  shall  never  be  out  of  humour,  and  the  harp 
never  out  of  tune ;  where  the  Lord  I  love  shall  be 
loved  with  an  intensity  of  which  I  cannot  now 
dream,  and  where  the  cup  of  which  I  have  now  par- 


112  THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 

taken  sliall  be  replenished,  fresh  and  full,  out  of  the  . 
fountain  that  rises  up   from   beneath  the  throne. 
Love  the  Lord,  0  my  soul,  for  these  precious  hopes. 

*  Thou  shalt  -^alk  in  robes  of  glory ; 

Thou  shalt  wear  a  golden  crown ; 
Thou  shalt  sing  redemption's  stoiy 
With  the  saints  around  the  throne. 

*  Thou  shalt  see  that  better  country 

Where  a  tear-drop  never  fell, 
Where  a  foe  made  never  entry, 

And  a  friend  ne'er  said  farewell. 
Where  upon  the  radiant  faces 

That  will  shine  on  thee  alway, 
Thou  wilt  never  see  the  traces 

Of  estrangement  and  decay.' 

And  now,  as  the  Lord  I  love  has  done  so  much 
for  me  —  has  thrown  around  me  the  arms  of  Ilis 
power,  I  feel  that  I  am  bound  by  peculiar  ties  to 
Him.  I  am  under  obligation  (and  I  gladly  own  and 
record  it)  to  prove  the  reality  of  my  affection  and 
homage  by  activity  and  labour.  '  0  Lord,  truly  I 
am  thy  servant.'  Give  me  the  spirit  of  a  servant. 
Show  me  my  work  as  a  servant,  and  fit  me  for  it. 
Then  shall  I  find  that  all  service  is  easy  and  plea- 
sant. 0  that  this  love  I  profess  had  a  deeper  fer- 
vour, that  it  filled  my  entire  nature,  that  it  nursed 
every  motive,  and  threw  its  radiance  over  every 
labour  —  then  should  I  exult  in  declaring  again,  '  I 
am  thy  servant.'  Thy  service  is  no  drudgery,  for 
Thy  will  is  always  '  holy,  and  just,  and  good.'  The 
work  Thou  assignest  elevates  and  ennobles  him  who 


THE   VOTIVE   TABLET.  113 

does  it.  Ye  servants  of  Satan,  how  I  pity  you. 
Your  task  is  ignoble;  you  are  degraded  into  serfs, 
and  your  '  austere  master'  plunges  you  deeper  and 
deeper  in  the  mire,  gives  you  no  respite,  and  holds 
out  no  hope  of  reward ;  for  '  the  wages  of  sin  is 
death.' 

That  I  was  early  given  to  Thee,  is  my  joy  and 
gratitude.     The  seed  sown  in  maternal  love,  and 
watered  by  maternal  tears,  has  at  length  borne  its 
fruit.     *  I  am  the  son  of  thy  handmaid' —  the  child 
of  many  prayers.     She  travailed  '  again  as  in  birth' 
for  me,  that  I  might  be  born  again.     She  was  one 
of  Thy  servants,  dear  and  devoted  to  Thee ;  let  her 
son  be  ever  a  welcome  servant.     Thus  race  unto 
race  shall  fear  Thee,  and  the  promise  of  Thy  cove- 
nant,— 'to   you    and    your   children,'    is   fulfilled. 
Surely  I  cannot  but  value  early  parental  instruction 
— -'  the  son  of  thy  handmaid,'  who  now  says  of  him- 
self, Hruly  I  am  thy  servant.'      Have  I  not  seen 
many  trained  from  infancy,  some  to  carelessness 
and  some  to  sin ;  ay,  and  some,  too,  have  I  seen 
setting   all   parental  nurture  at  defiance,  burning 
their  mother's  Bible,  and  cursing  their  mother's 
God.     That  '  I  atn  what  I  am,'  '  bless  the  Lord,  O 
my  soul.'     ]^ay  more,  I  was  once  enslaved  —  the 
fetter  was  tight,  and  it  galled  me ;  the  iron  was 
heavy,  and  I  could  not  break  it.     My  soul  was  en- 
thralled to  the  past,  and  I  could  not  flee  from  pain- 
ful recollections  ;  it  was  chained  to  the  future,  and 
I  could  not  shake  ofiT  gloomy  forebodings ;  it  Avas 
tied  down  to  the  present,  and  I  could  not  unfasten 
10  '^ 


114  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

the  sinful  indifference  that  held  me  in  captivity, 
and  there  I  lay  like  —  , 

*  An  infant  crying  in  the  night, 
An  infant  crying  for  the  light, 

And  -with  no  language  but  a  cry/ 

But  ^  thou  hast  loosed  my  bonds.'    My  mind  was  in 
bondage  to  error,  and  my  heart  was  in  bondage  to 
sin;  but  Thy  truth  has  freed  me — Thy  Son  has 
made  me  '  free  indeed.'     Eelieved  from  such  servi- 
tude, I  am  Thy  servant,  and  grateful  for  my  emanci- 
pation, '  I  will  offer  to  thee  the  sacrifice  of  thanks- 
giving, and  will  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord.' 
'  My  praise  shall  be  of  thee  in  the  great  congrega- 
tion, I  will  pay  my  vows  before  them  that  fear  him.' 
And  thus,  the  longer  I  meditate,  the  more  is  my 
heart  crowded  with  reasons  for  serving  the  Lord. 
And  shall  I  not  declare  my  love  with  a  public  ac- 
knowledgment ?      'I  will  pay  my  vows  unto   the 
Lord  now,  in  the  presence  of  all  his  people  ;  in  the 
courts  of  the  Lord's  house,  in  the  midst  of  thee,  O 
Jerusalem.'      Thy  servant  Hezekiah  got  it   from 
Thyself  as  a  pledge  of  his  recovery  from  sickness, 
that  ^  on  the  third  day  he  should  go  up  to  the  house 
of  the  Lord.'     The  God  who  healed  him,  knew  that 
the  royal  heart  would  like  to  give  public  thanks  for 
the  divine  goodness.     *  If,'  said  Thy  servant  David, 
'  I  find  favour  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord,  he  will  show 
me  his  habitation.'     The  exiled  sovereign  felt  that 
his  return  to  his  capital  would  be  one  not  only  to 
his  palace,  but  to  Thy  sanctuary.     And  shall  not  I 


THE   VOTIVE   TABLET. 


115 


love  Thy  house— the  scene  where  Thou  hast  so 
often  manifested  '  Thy  power  and  glory  ?'  Am  I 
not  drawn  to  Thy  people  ?  '  Come  and  hear,  all 
ye  that  fear  God,  and  I  will  declare  what  he  hath 
done  for  my  soul.'  While  I  hegan  by  saying  of 
myself  that  I  love  the  Lord,  may  I  not  conclude  by 
saying  to  you  — '  Praise  ye  the  Lord'  — '  0  magnify 
the  Lord  with  me,  and  let  us  exalt  his  name  to- 
gether V  Bear  me  witness,  ye  who  share  a  kindred 
affection,  when  in  the  midst  of  you,  I  inscribe  on  my 
votive  tablet  — 

'I  LOVE  THE  Lord.* 

*  I  love  Thee,  Lord,  but  with  no  love  of  mine, 

For  I  have  none  to  give  ; 
I  Icve  Thee,  Lord,  but  all  the  love  is  Thine, 

For  by  Thy  love  I  live. 
I  am  as  nothing,  and  rejoice  to  be 
Emptied,  and  lost,  and  swallowed  up  in  Thee. 

Thou,  Lord,  alone  art  all  Thy  children  need. 

And  there  is  none  beside  ; 
From  Thee  the  streams  of  blessedness  proceed, 

In  Thee  the  blest  abide. 
Fountain  of  life  and  all-abounding  grace, 
Our  source,  our  centre,  and  our  dwelling-place.' 


116  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 


LECTURE  Y. 


THE   ADOPTING   LOVE    OF   THE   FATHER. 
A    LECTURE. 

1  John  hi.  1-3. 

^Behold  what  manner  of  love  the  Father  hatli  bestowed  upon  us, 
that  we  shoidd  he  called  the  sons  of  God!  therefore  the  world 
hnoweth  us  not,  because  it  kneiv  him  not.  Beloved,  now  are 
we  the  sons  of  God ;  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall 
be :  but  we  knoio  that,  ivhen  he  shall  appear,  ive  shall  be  like 
him  ;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  he  is.  And  every  man  tlmt  hath 
this  hope  in  him  purifieth  himself,  even  as  he  is  pure.' 

One  object  of  the  beloved  disciple  in  the.  compo- 
sition of  this  inspired  essay,  is  to  show  and  prove 
that  a  holy  life  ought  to  be  the  invariable  result  and 
accompaniment  of  a  pure  and  orthodox  creed.  For 
the  surest  proof  of  being-  in  God,  is  to  be  like  God. 
They  who  hope  for  salvation  from  Christ's  death, 
ought  to  be  conformed  to  His  life ;  and  they  who 
trust  in  His  righteousness,  are  bound  to  obey  His 
law.  But  such  spiritual  assimilation  implies  a  pre- 
vious, radical,  and  permanent  change  —  a  change 
which  is  not  self-produced,  but  is  the  result  of  divine 
influence.     There  lurks  in  the  bosom  of  fallen  and 


ADOPTING   LOVE    OF   THE    FATHER.  117 

wrecked  humanity  no  latent  elasticity,  by  the  ope- 
ration of  which  man  may  recover  himself  to  God 
and  to  goodness.  Power  not  his  own,  power  from 
on  high,  must  therefore  descend  upon  him,  and 
transform  him.  This  is  the  truth  announced  in  the 
last  verse  of  the  preceding  chapter,  and  in  these 
words  :  ^  If  ye  know  that  he  is  righteous,  ye  know 
that  every  one  that  doeth  righteousness  is  born  of 
him.'  Genuine  righteousness  is  the  fruit  of  the 
second  birth.  Those  who  are  thus  born  of  God, 
own  God  for  their  Father  —  the  twice-born  alone 
are  his  spiritual  children,  and  among  themselves 
*  all  they  are  brethren.'  But  while  the  power  which 
translates  and  renews  them  is  so  great,  that  power 
has  been  excited  into  action  by  infinite  love.  And 
now,  as  the  apostle  looked  on  the  spiritual  brother- 
hood, and  saw^  them  all  to  be  begotten  of  one 
Father;  as  he  remembered  what  they  once  were, 
and  by  what  grace  they  had  been  rescued;  and  as 
he  reflected  on  the  character  enjoyed  by  them,  the 
blessings  heaped  upon  them,  the  privileges  pos- 
sessed by  them,  and  the  destiny  awaiting  them ;  as 
these  thoughts  lay  in  his  deep  and  susceptible  heart, 
they  prompted  him  to  exclaim,  in  the  first  verse, 
'Behold  what  manner  of  love  the  Father  hath  be- 
stowed upon  us,  that  we  should  be  called  the  sons 
of  God.' 

Such  language  is  the  expression  of  wonder  and 
gratitude.  And  the  point  of  the  exclamation  lies 
not  in  its  reference  to  the  mere  fact  of  the  Father's 
love,  but  to  the  '  manner'  or  kind  of  it.     It  is  love 


118  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

of  a  peculiar  species ;  unique  in  its  nature,  and  un- 
paralleled in  its  results.  'His  ways  are  not  our 
ways,  nor  his  thoughts  our  thoughts.'  Behold  what 
manner  of  love ;  yes,  it  is  worthy  of  all  admiration, 
and  deserves  to  be  ever  contemplated  and  adored. 
"What  then  is  its  '  manner  ?' 

Let  us  look,  first,  at  the  result  or  purpose  of  this 
love,  and  we  shall  be  the  better  prepared  to  under- 
stand its  'manner.'  If  we  know  what  it  contem- 
plates and  what  it  has  secured  for  us,  then  we  shall 
rise  to  the  recognition  at  once  of  its  fervour  and  its 
strangeness.  I^ow,  the  apostle  says  this  affection 
has  been  lavished  upon  us, '  that  we  should  be  called 
the  sons  of  God.'  0  the  indescribable  honour  of 
such  an  appellation — to  be  called  by  the  great 
Parent,  His  sons  !  This  God-given  name  is  an  in- 
dex to  the  reality,  and  is  no  ornamental  epithet  or 
appendage.  Men  of  the  Hebrew  nation  had  often 
the  name  of  God  incorporated  into  their  own,  and 
a  claim  of  divine  descent  was  often  boasted  of  by 
the  heroes  of  classical  antiquity.  Thus,  Isaiah  is 
the  '  salvation  of  Jehovah,'  Jeremiah  is  '  exalted  of 
Jehovah,'  Daniel  is  'judge  appointed  by  God,'  and 
Ezekiel  is  '  supported  by  God.'  Thus,  too,  the  idol 
]^ebo  is  found  in  the  royal  name,  Nebuchadnezzar ; 
and  Baal  forms  a  part  of  such  surnames  as  Jezebel, 
Hannibal,  and  Belshazzar.  The  common  Moorish 
title,  Abdallah,  signifies  'servant  of  God.'  This 
earnest  desire  to  be  named  after  the  object  of  wor- 
ship, springs  out  of  universal  religious  instinct,  and 
men  have  clung  to  the  symbol  after  they  had  become 


ADOPTING   LOVE   OF   TUE   FATHER.  119 

strangers  to  the  reality.  But  God's  children  are  His 
in  verity.  The  unnatural  sin  of  their  unfilial  re- 
bellion is  blotted  out,  and  they  become  sons  by  adop- 
tion. They  had  made  themselves  exiles  from  His 
family,  but  He  brings  them  back,  and  the  Spirit  of 
their  Father  is  bestowed  upon  them.  So  that,  first 
of  all,  they  bear  His  image,  as  the  test  and  token 
of  their  sonship.  The  lineaments  of  His  moral  cha- 
racter are  reflected  in  them.  As  the  father  lives 
again  in  the  countenance  of  the  child,  so  the  like- 
ness of  God  is  communicated  to  His  spiritual  oflT- 
spring ;  and  as  by  gazing  on  the  son,  you  can  tell 
the  paternity,  so  the  lustrous  features  of  the  inner 
man  proclaim  at  once  his  heavenly  origin.  The 
sons  are  conformed  to  the  image  of  Christ,  and 
Christ  is  the  'brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,'  and 
the  '  express  image  of  his  person.'  What  a  change, 
so  profound  and  joyous — 'Out  of  the  family  of  Satan 
into  the  household  of  God.  0,  then,  prove  your 
descent,  by  exhibiting  your  likeness  !  Disguise  not 
your  lineage.  Live,  we  entreat  you,  in  the  thought 
of  being  the  sons  of  God,  and  act  always  under  a 
sense  of  this  high  relationship.  IN'ever  tarnish  your 
dignity  by  ungodly  pursuits.  Let  the  sons  of  God 
be  like  Him.  Let  not  the  heir  of  the  crown  be 
found  among  the  slaves  of  the  mine.  Be  ye  *  the 
sons  of  God  without  rebuke,  in  the  midst  of  a  crook- 
ed and  perverse  nation.'  What  *  manner'  of  love 
is  this,  in  transforming  those  who*  were  once  so  un- 
like Him,  and  who  had  so  terribly  provoked  Him  ; 
and  in  clothing  them,  not  with  a  dim  and  distant 


120  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

similitude,  but  with  the  ethereal  dignit}^  of  His  very 
image. 

The  sous  of  God  also  possess  His  special  love : 
■  *  Ye  shall  be  my  sons  and  daughters.'  Love  prompt- 
[  ed  Him  to  adopt  them  ;  aud  after  they  are  adopted, 
He  has  peculiar  delight  in  them.  Being  His  chil- 
dren, they  are  His  friends.  His  paternal  arms  are 
thrown  around  them.  Angels  are  loved  by  Him 
with  a  single  and  a  common  love,  but  saints  are 
loved  by  Him  with  a  special  and  a  double  affection. 
The  blood  of  His  Son  has  been  shed  for  them ;  they 
have  cost  Him  much,  and  His  heart  has  therefore  a 
tender  complacency  in  them.  "What  '  manner'  of 
love  is  this,  that  the  fallen  should  at  length  have  a 
place  in  His  bosom  which  the  unfallen  can  never 
occupy ! 

Still  more,  a  glorious  destiny  awaits  them — a  rich 
f  and  noble  legacy  is  secured  for  them  :  '  If  children, 
then  heirs;  heirs  of  God,  and  joint-heirs  with  Christ.' 
Fathers  on  earth  sometimes  leave  their  children  a 
heritage  of  shame,  and  the  shadow  of  the  gallows 
looms  over  their  cradle.  But  God  has  set  apart  an 
inheritance  for  us — rich,  substantial,  and  permanent. 
All  that  He  is,  and  all  that  He  has  is  ours ;  yes,  all 
that  God  is,  and  all  that  God  possesses  is  the  herit- 
age of  His  children  :  'All  things  are  yours  ;  whether 
Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas,  or  the  world,  or  life, 
or  death,  or  things  present,  or  things  to  come ;  all 
are  yours;  and  ye  are  Christ's.'  When  the  years 
of  minority  are  expired,  the  children  are  taken  home 
to  the  household  on  high,  where  their  filial  likeness 


ADOPTING    LOVE    OF   THE    FATHER.  121 

is  perfectly  developed,  and  their  Father's  love  is 
fully  enjoyed ;  where  the  whole  family  form  one 
unbroken  and  vast  assemblage — heart  knit  to  heart 
in  the  secure  possession  of  their  celestial  patrimony. 

Can  you  now  doubt  that  you  *  should  be  called 
the  sons  of  God  ?'  You  are  not  forgiven  and  kept 
at  a  distance  —  are  not  constituted  servants  inferior 
and  apart;  but  you  are  made  sons.  The  confession 
of  the  prodigal  was,  '  I  am  no  more  worthy  to  be 
called  thy  son,'  and  his  prayer  was,  '■  make  me  as 
one  of  thy  hired  servants.'  But  the  father  at  once 
reinstated  him ;  calls  him  in  the  fulness  of  his  joy 
—  *  my  son ;'  puts  on  him  a  robe,  which  no  slave 
durst  assume,  and  covered  his  feet  with  sandals, 
which  no  menial  could  wear.  There  was  love  in 
pitying  you,  special  love  in  redeeming  you  from  the 
curse ;  but  there  is  an  unearthly  *  manner'  of  love, 
in  not  only  plucking  you  from  danger,  but  in  plac- 
ing you  in  the  near  and  dear  relation  of  sons.  It 
would  have  been  unspeakable  grace  to  have  made 
you  servants,  and  kept  you  in  the  outer  court  to 
obey  Him  as  your  Master ;  but  0  it  is  past  all  thought 
and  record,  that  you  are  children,  and  that  you  love 
Him  as  your  Father — bear  His  image,  share  in  His 
tender  affection,  and  are  preparing  for  His  glorious 
home.  *  What  manner  of  love'  in  this  triple  privi- 
lege ;  yea,  God  represents  it  as  a  problem,  and  as  a 
matter  of  surprise  to  Himself:  'How  shall  I  put 
thee  among  the  children,  and  give  thee  the  goodly 
heritage  ?' 

The  extraordinary  love  of  the  Father  is  also  seen 
11 


122  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

in  the  entire  circuit  of  discipline  which  has  been  ar- 
ranged for  His  children.  As  they  occasionally  trans- 
gress, so  are  they  chastened,  but  not  in  anger  or  'hot 
displeasure.'  When  a  parent  punishes  a  beloved  child, 
it  is  the  hi2:hest  effort  of  a  self-den vin 2^  love.  God's 
genuine  affection  lifts  up  the  rod,  and  he  does  not  spare 
the  rod,  for  He  does  not  hate  the  child.  Such  a  visita- 
tion is  a  proof  of  sonship.  Will  you  not  take  it  joy- 
ously, as  the  evidence  of  a  Father's  love,  and  as  the 
means  of  preparing  you  for  a  Father's  home  ?  '  If 
ye  be  without  chastisement,  whereof  all  are  par- 
takers, then  are  ye  bastards,  and  not  sons.'  And 
you  possess,  in  fine,  a  blessed  privilege  in  prayer. 
Your  Father's  ear  is  ever  open,  and  His  hand  is  ever 
full.  You  have  but  to  unbosom  yourselves  before 
Him,  and  without  reserve.  '  Ye  have  not  received 
the  spirit  of  bondage  again  to  fear,  but  ye  have  re- 
ceived the  spirit  of  adoption,  whereby  we  cry,  Abba, 
Father.'  Your  confidence  in  Him  can  never  be 
misplaced.  Children  in  the  dawn  of  youth  have 
perfect  trust  in  their  parents  —  in  their  ability  to 
supply  every  want,  to  grant  every  request,  and  to 
impart  all  needed  information  and  assistance.  Such 
tender  faith  only  leaves  them  after  repeated  disap- 
pointments have  taught  them  an  opposite  conclu- 
sion. But  all  wisdom  is  God's  to  direct  you,  all 
power  His  to  defend  you,  and  all  goodness  His  to 
secure  your  felicity. 

And  will  not  such  a  child  be  content  in  any  cir- 
'cumstances  ?  What  is  good  for  him  His  Father 
will  give  him.     As  much  of  temporal  blessing  will 


ADOPTINQ   LOVE   OF   THE   FATHER.  123 

lie  get  as  lie  can  improv^e.  l\ov  does  he  need  to 
posset^s  the  world  in  order  to  enjoy  it.  Ke  can  look 
around  him  on  earth  and  sa}^  'My  Father  made  it 
all.'  He  spends  his  life  in  a  habitation  provided  by 
parental  skill  and  love.  And  were  he  always  con- 
scious of  his  sonship,  what  peace  and  contidence 
would  he  not  feel  in  all  conditions  and  at  every  mo- 
ment.    As  if  he  said  or  sung  — 

*  Why  should  I  stranger  be 

In  my  Father's  dwelling, 
While  hill  and  river,  rock  and  tree 

Of  Ilis  love  are  telling  ? 
Always  heard  their  simple  voice, 
Bidding  childlike  hearts  rejoice, 
AYhispers  me,  this  love  is  near ; 
What  I  hope  in  yonder  sphere, 
Love  can  find  it  now  and  here. 
See  how  every  tree  and  flower, 
For  a  century  or  an  hour, 
Rests  in  one  upholding  power. 
All  their  food  to  them  is  brought, 
Nothing  wanted,  nothing  sought; 
Why  should  I,  with  anxious  thought. 
Mar  the  good  my  Father  wrought  V 

Having  now  learned  what  God  had  in  prospect, 
and  how  He  has  wrought  it  out ;  having  seen  that 
in  making  us  His  sons,  the  end  and  the  process  are 
alike  marvellous  and  uncommon, — we  are  now  pre- 
pared tlie  better  to  comprehend  the  singularity  of 
the  divine  afiection.  And  first,  the  love  that  leads 
a  man  to  call  a  child  his  own,  which  is  not  by  his 
natural  descent,  has  not  such  a  '  manner'  about  it. 


124  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

For  when  among  men  a  child  is  adopted,  it  is  usually 
because  the  adopter  thinks  it  worthy  of  his  regard  ; 
because  there  is  something  in  its  features  or  charac- 
ter that  pleases  him.  He  likes  it  and  thinks  it  a 
likeable  child,  and  so  he  takes  it  to  his  heart  and 
home,  gives  it  his  own  name,  feeds  it,  clothes  it, 
educates  it,  and  prepares  it  for  the  duties  of  life. 
But  no  such  motive  could  prompt  the  divine  affec- 
tion ;  for  we  were  utterly  lost  and  loathsome  before 
Him.  There  was  nothing  about  us,  in  our  charac- 
ter or  position,  to  attract  the  divine  affection.  All 
was  unrul}^,  defiant,  and  ungrateful.  The  pride  of 
our  apostasy  bade  us  cr}^  'AYho  is  Lord  over  us?* 
'Depart  from  us,'  shouted  we  to  the  Almighty. 
The  wonder  is,  that  we  were  not  consumed  in  wrath. 
For  we  were  once  in  His  familj^ ;  but  we  scornfully 
left  it,  and  in  the  pride  of  rebellious  independence 
sought  for  ourselves  another  household.  The  door 
might  have  been  righteously  closed  upon  us  for  ever. 
But  He  welcomes  us;  ay.  He  takes  us,  disgraced 
and  filthy  as  we  are,  to  His  bosom.  He  has  loved 
us ;  and  His  love  is  like  Himself.  He  has  loved  us, 
and  in  defiance  of  every  repelling  element.  He  has 
laid  His  gracious  hand  upon  us,  translated  us  into 
His  family,  and  made  us  His  sons.  '  This  is  not  the 
manner  of  men,  0  Lord  God.' 

Again,  if  one  adopts  a  child,  it  is  commonly  be- 
cause himself  is  childless,  or  his  hearth  may  have 
been  desolated  by  war  or  disease.  He  longs  to 
have  some  object  near  him  on  which  to  set  his  heart, 
and  expend  his   instinctive  attachment.     But  Je- 


ADOPTING    LOVE    OF   THE    FATHER.  125 

hovah  bad  myriads  of  a  flourishing  progeny  —  un- 
counted hosts  of  bright  intelligences,  who  have 
never  disobeyed  Him.  His  heart  rejoices  over  them ; 
so  numerous  and  so  closely  arranged  are  they  around 
his  throne,  that  in  its  reflected  splendour  they  appear 
like  moving  and  living  clouds  of  radiance.  It  was 
not  because  His  glory  w^as  unseen,  or  His  praises 
were  unsung,  that  He  has  loved  us.  There  was  no 
unsu}  plied  craving  in  Him,  which  led  Him  to  adopt 
us ;  for  the  '  many  mansions'  w^ere  crowded  with  a 
happy  household.  But  yet  He  has  loved  us ;  and 
though  He  had  so  many  children.  He  wishes  to  have 
more ;  nay.  His  heart  is  set  on  bringing  '  many  sons 
to  glory.'  What  ^manner'  of  love  is  this;  how 
noble  and  disinterested  in  its  nature !  How  intense, 
too,  in  its  warmth ;  for  ere  this  adoption  could  be 
effected,  the  ^  first-born  among  many  brethren'  must 
suffer  and  die.  The  Father  gives  up  His  only-be- 
gotten Son  to  agony  and  the  cross,  that  the  human 
slaves  of  Satan  might  receive  the  '  adoption  of  child- 
ren.' Such  love  is  in  the  manner  of  it  above  all 
conception  and  parallel,  and  has  no  shadow  of  it- 
self among  created  attachments.  Feeling,  then, 
how  He  hath  adopted  you,  and  what  blessings  are 
implied  in  your  adoption  —  how,  as  His  children, 
you  are  so  like  Him,  and  are  so  loved  by  Him ;  how 
you  have  the  prospect  of  a  blessed  heritage,  and  are 
enjoying  necessary  and  wholesome  tuition  and  dis- 
cipline during  your  present  minority  —  0  will  you 
not  bo  induced  to  cry  out  with  the  apostle  of  love, 
who  revels  in  the  idea  of  such  love,  'Behold  what 
11^ 


126  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

manner  of  love  the  Father  hath  bestowed  upon  us, 
that  we  should  be  called  the  sons  of  God !' 

But  the  present  condition  of  the  sons  of  God  is 
vailed  and   incomplete.      '  Therefore,'   the    apostle 
adds,  '  the  world  knoweth  us  not,  because  it  knew 
Him   not.'     That  is,  the  world  did  not  recognise 
Christ ;  and  on  the  very  same  principle,  the  world 
does  not  recognise  those  who  are  Christ's.      The 
mission  of  the  Son  of  God  was  spiritual.     It  was 
not  in  harmony  with  the  vulgar  expectation,  and 
therefore  the  w^orld  did  not  and  could  not  appreci- 
ate it.     Had  the  Son  of  David  come  to  confer  earth- 
ly franchise  and  national  independence  ;  had  He  un- 
furled the  banner  of  the  Lion  of  Judah,  and  drawn. 
a  sword  to  expel  the  hated  and  crushing  usurper  — 
thousands  would  have  flocked  around  Him  with  ac- 
clamations and  hosannahs,  and  proclaimed  Him  the 
hero  and  head  of  Israel.     But  His  character  and 
errand  were  very  different,  for  He  came  to  free  men 
not  by  the  sword,  but  by  suffering,  and  to  deliver 
them  not  from  political  vassalage,   but  from  the 
kingdom  of  darkness.     His  enterprise  was  too  ethe- 
real for  the  coarse  vision  of  the  world  to  detect,  or 
its  sordid  heart  to  admire.     The  world  recognises 
and  loves  only  what  belongs  to  itself — distinction 
in  birth  or  rank,  in  arts  or  arms,  in  legislation  or 
science,  in  poetry  or  architecture,  in  oratory  or  phi- 
losophy.    Its  great  ones,  and  not  its  good  ones,  di- 
vide among  themselves  the  world's  homage.     '  They 
are  of  the  world,  therefore  the  world  loveth  them.' 
Not  that  the  world   is  able  to  ignore  Christianity. 


ADOPTING    LOVE    OF   THE    FATHER.  127 

But  it  admires  it  not  for  itself,  but  for  its  splendid 
results  —  for  the  benclicial  effects,  in  the  form  of 
patriotism  and  philanthropy.,  which  it  has  produced. 
It  is  not  Wilberforce  the  saint,  but  Wilberforce  the 
qiieller  of  the  slave  trade,  that  men  admire.  Spi- 
ritual Christianity  is  as  distasteful  to  the  world  as 
ever  it  was  —  'the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the 
things  of  the  Spirit  of  God.' 

The  dignity  and  prospects  of  the  sons  of  God  are 
not  of  a  secular  and  visible  nature.  '  The  world 
knoweth  them  not.'  Were  they  the  scions  of  a 
royal  house,  or  w^ere  their  inheritance  on  earth,  the 
world  would  very  soon  come  to  know  them;  but 
their  Father  is  in  heaven,  and  their  dominion  is 
with  Him.  They  wear  no  mantle,  with  symbolic 
decorations,  to  attract  attention ;  their  pure  robe  is 
the  righteousness  of  Christ,  invisible  to  such  as  are 
strangers  to  the  cross.  But  should  this  ignorance 
on  the  part  of  the  world  dispirit  you  ?  By  no  means. 
Your  case  is  not  solitary.  It  '  knew  Him  not'  — 
even  Him  it  did  not  i^cognise  as  the  Son  of  God. 
'It  is  enough  for  the  disciple  that  he  be  as  his  mas- 
ter, and  the  servant  that  he  be  as  his  lord.'  If  the 
world  did  not  know  Him,  though  the  glory  of  His 
Sonship  so  often  flashed  around  Him,  how  can  it  be 
expected  to  know  you,  with  your  fewer  and  feebler 
tokens  of  relationship  to  God.  Cicero  says  that  if 
virtue  w^ere  to  descend  to  the  world  in  a  human 
shape,  so  enamoured  would  men  be  of  the  spectacle, 
that  they  would  foil  down  and  worship  it.  And  yet 
virtue  did  descend  in  a  true  humanitv  —  the  incar- 


128  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

nation  of  loveliness  itself;  and  so  far  from  doing 
homage  to  it,  thev  nailed  it,  in  the  person  of  Jesus, 
to  the  accursed  tree.  '  Therefore  the  world  know- 
eth  us  not,  because  it  knew  him  not.'  But  it  matters 
not.  Were  you  to  be  tried  bv  a  jury  of  the  world, 
and  were  your  eternal  destiny  to  depend  upon  their 
verdict,  based  on  their  knowledge  of  your  filial 
dignity,  then  you  might  feel  anxiety,  and  might  use 
every  means  and  embrace  every  opportunity  to  bring 
men  into  acquaintanceship  with  you.  But  your 
future  welfare  is  in  your  Father's  hands,  and  no 
member  of  His  vast  family  is  too  mean  to  be  over- 
looked, or  too  distant  to  be  forgotten.  He  who 
'  counts  the  number  of  the  stars,  and  names  them 
every  one,'  has  a  perfect  knowledge  of  all  His  child- 
ren —  of  the  least  and  the  lowest  of  them  —  of  the 
babes  as  well  as  of  those  of  full  age.  The  beggar 
that  lay  at  the  rich  man's  gate,  feeding  on  the  crumbs 
and  waited  on  by  the  dogs,  might  die  in  solitude 
and  neglect  —  no  friend  might  receive  his  parting 
sigh,  or  close  his  drooping  eyes  —  no  stone  would 
mark  the  spot  of  his  unrecorded  sepulture  ;  and  yet 
the  angels  carried  his  spirit  into  Abraham's  bosom, 
on  which  he  lay  a  cherished  guest  at  the  heavenly 
banquet.  Out  of  a  world  that  did  not  know  them 
the  children  shall  all  be  assembled ;  for  the  eye  of 
a  Father  is  on  them,  the  heart  of  a  Father  is  with 
them,  and  the  arm  of  a  Father  shall  guide  them 
home  to  His  loved  abode. 
\  Verse  2,  *  Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God; 
and  it  doth  not  yet  apper  what  we  shall  be  :  but  we 


ADOPTIXa  LOVE  OF  THE  FATHER.       129 

know  tliat,  when  be  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like 
him ;  for  we  shall  see  him  as  be  is.'  Our  sonship, 
we  rejoice  to  be  thns  informed,  is  not  a  blessing 
awaiting  us  in  some  distant  sphere  of  being.  It  is 
a  present  privilege  :  '  ]^ow  are  we  the  sons  of  God.' 
Despite  of  this  non-recognition  on  the  part  of  the 
world,  we  are  the  sons  of  God.  The  reality  of  our 
adoption  is  not  modified  by  the  world's  oblivion  of 
it.  It  may  be  undiscovered  by  others,  but  our  own 
experience  gives  ourselves  the  full  assurance  of  it. 
So  soon  as  faith  springs  up  in  the  heart,  are  we  rein- 
stated in  the  family  of  God,  cherished,  protected, 
and  sanctified  —  enjoying  the  children's  privileges, 
eating  the  children's  bread,  possessing  the  children's 
prerogatives,  and  being  made  meet  for  the  children's 
home. 

But  noble  as  is  our  present  condition,  our  ulti- 
mate dignity  surpasses  conception.  '  It  doth  not 
yet  appear  what  we  shall  be.'  It  has  not  been  re- 
vealed. It  is  matter  of  faith,  and  it  is  still  wrapt  in 
mystery.  It  may  be  questioned  if  human  language 
has  nerve  and  sinew  enough  to  bear  u23on  it  a  de- 
scription of  the  *for  more  exceeding  and  eternal 
weight  of  glory.'  It  might  be  doubted,  too,  if  we 
w^ere  qualified  to  comprehend  it  though  it  had  been 
revealed  —  if  the  words  of  such  an  oracle  would  not 
have  been  to  us  like  the  algebraic  symbols  of  an  un- 
known quantity.  For  our  own  present  experience, 
blissful  though  it  be,  scarce  lays  a  foundation  for 
augury  as  to  our  future  state.  Even  though  we 
now  revel  in  the  divine  favour,  and  are  blessed  with 


130  THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 

the  divine  image,  though  the  joy  of  such  a  state 
does  often  make  us  mute  from  its  very  rapture,  yet 
such  transcendent  fehcity  is  scarcely  a  premiss  to 
reason  from  as  to  the  glory  of  our  ultimate  heritage. 
We  know,  indeed,  that  in  harmony  with  usual 
divine  procedure,  there  is  a  necessary  development. 
The  acorn  springs  into  a  sapling  ere  it  spreads  out 
into  an  oak,  and  the  infant  passes  through  child- 
hood and  youth  to  the  maturity  of  manhood.  It  may 
be  a  slow  and  invisible  growth,  but  there  is  sure  re- 
sult. Look  on  the  blade — it  doth  not  yet  appear  what 
it  shall  be,  'for  it  shoots  into  the  ear,'  and  bends  at 
length  with  the  weight  of  the  '  full  corn  in  the  ear.' 
"When  Pharaoh's  daughter  opened  the  basket  of 
bulrushes  on  the  bank  of  the  Kile,  it  did  not  then 
appear  what  that  weeping  babe  should  be  —  the 
hero,  legislator,  and  saint.  We  are  not  therefore  to 
expect  too  much  in  the  meantime.  The  apostle 
Paul,  as  he  speaks  of  the  children,  and  affirms  that 
they  are  heirs,  adds  in  the  same  spirit,  '  If  so  be  that 
we  suifer  with  him,  that  we  may  be  also  glorified 
together.'  Suftering  and  depression  are  not  incom- 
patible with  sonship,  for  the  children  are  spiritually 
related  to  Him  who  was  the  'Man  of  soTrows.' 
There  is  so  much  about  us  that  clogs  and  confines 
us  —  so  much  that  is  sinful  and  oppressive  —  so 
deep  is  the  shadow  that  earth  throws  over  the  chil- 
dren of  God,  that  any  inference  as  to  coming  free- 
dom and  glory  is  all  but  an  impossiblity.  Such 
being  the  present  eclipse  of  our  sonship,  there  is  the 
less  wonder  that  '  the  world  knoweth  us  not.'  The 
Son  of  Mary  —  a  carpenter  —  a  man  of  sorrows  — 


ADOPTING    LOVE   OF   THE   FATHER.  131 

poor  and  persecuted  —  was  not  Himself,  in  such  a 
disguise,  seen  to  be  the  Son  of  God. 

Yet  there  is  a  leading  thought  which  the  apostle 
presents  as  a  guide,  and  by  following  it  we  may 
obtain  some  glimpse  of  future  blessedness.  It  is  as 
a  central  picture  which  stands  out  wdth  peculiar 
prominence,  and  though  we  be  not  able  to  till  up  its 
entire  outline,  or  throw  over  it  the  living  lustre  of 
eternity,  yet  may  we  argue  and  imagine  from  the 
portion  unvailed  as  to  the  nobleness  and  splendour 
of  what  is  concealed:  'We  know  that,  when  He 
shall  appear,  we  shall  he  like  Him ;  for  we  shall 
see  Him  as  he  is.'  In  this  declaration  Christ  is  not 
formally  mentioned.  It  needed  not.  The  apostle's 
readers  could  not  mistake  the  reference.  Only  one 
Being  could  possess  that  peculiar  excellence  and 
position.  'When  Christ  shall  appear,  we  shall  be 
like  Him ;  for  we  shall  see  Him  as  he  is.'  This 
truth  is  an  unshaken  first  principle  on  which  all  our 
conclusions  are  to  be  based. 

Christ  shall  appear.  This  is  the  blessed  hope  of 
the  church  —  '  The  appearing  of  our  great  God  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ.'  He  left  the  world  with  the 
promise  of  revisiting  it.  He  has  peculiar  interest  in 
it ;  the  scenes  of  His  nativity  and  suffering  must 
have  a  special  charm  for  Him.  When  He  ascended, 
and  the  eleven  were  straining  their  aching  eye-balls 
to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  His  lessening  form,  so  fast 
disappearing  among  the  clouds,  the  angels  said  to 
them,  '  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  gazing  up 
into  heaven  ?  this  same  Jesus,  which  is  taken  up 


132  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

from  3^011  into  heaven,  shall  so  come  in  like  manner 
as  3'e  have  seen  him  go  into  heaven.'  He  shall  ap- 
pear in  majesty:  *In  his  own  gloiy,  the  glory  of  his 
Father,  and  in  that  of  his  holy  angels.'  That  bright 
humanity  shall  outshine  the  sun,  and  supply  its 
place  to  a  startled  world.  For  '  He  shall  appear' — 
in  the  glory  of  His  original  Godhead,  blended  with 
the  majesty  of  crowned  Eedeemer;  arrayed  in  the 
regal  apparel  of  Universal  Governor;  surrounded 
hy  a  dense  and  innumerable  retinue,  and  about  to 
exercise  His  last  and  loftiest  prerogative  of  judg- 
ment,—  then — then  —  *  shall  we  see  Him  as  He  is.' 
The  inference  is,  that  we  have  never  yet  seen  Him 
as  He  is  —  never  beheld  His  unshaded  splendour. 
We  have  been  privileged  onl}^  to  gaze  upon  His  por- 
traiture, sketched  indeed  by  the  pencil  of  inspira- 
tion;  yet  a  likeness,  no  matter  how  exactly  limned 
and  naturally  coloured  it  may  be,  can  never  be  com- 
pared with  the  living  original.  But  we  shall  see 
Him  face  to  face,  without  any  intervention.  Yes ; 
that  same  Jesus  who  lived  and  died,  who  wept  and 
conquered  —  the  Man-God,  in  His  actual  person  — 
*  as  He  is' — the  brightest  and  loveliest  Being  of  the 
universe.  Yes,  ^  as  He  is ;'  no  semblance  of  Him, 
no  cloudy  phantom ;  but  the  Lord  of  glory  before 
us,  near  us,  as  really  as  when  He  walked,  and  spoke, 
and  lived  among  the  houses  and  hamlets  of  Judea. 
For  it  is  no  dim  glimpse  we  are  to  obtain  —  no  sud- 
den coruscation  to  dazzle  us,  no  partial  view  which 
shall  only  create  a  longing  for  a  fuller  inspection  ; 
but  leisurely  and  at  large  '  we  shall  see  Him  as  He 


/ 

ADOPTING    LOVE    OF   THE   FATHER.  133 

is.'  "Who  can  tell  the  bhss  or  glory  of  such  a  vision  ? 
There  is  no  being  like  Christ.  In  His  mysterious 
constitution  He  combines  divinity  and  humanity, 
and  the  highest  glories  of  the  universe  sit  in  grace- 
fulness upon  Him.  That  crucified  Man  is  now  '  Lord 
of  all ;'  and  '  as  He  is' — without  veil  shall  we  behold 
Him.  He  was  seen  of  old  in  symbol,  and  at  length 
Tvas  He  beheld  in  flesh  ;  but  the  symbol  was  dim  in' 
its  transparency,  and  the  flesh  hid  in  its  mantle  the 
splendours  of  His  Godhead ;  but  He  shall  now  be 
revealed  in  the  radiance  of  divinity,  mingling  with 
the  brightness  of  a  glorified  humanity,  and  height- 
ened by  the  imperial  lustre  of  the  *  great  white 
throne.' 

On  seeing  Him,  *we  shall  be  like  Him.'  The 
meaning  is  not  that  we  shall  be  like  Him,  and  there- 
fore shall  be  qualified  to  see  Him ;  but  that  when 
we  see  Him,  completed  likeness  to  Him  shall  be  the 
result  of  the  wonderful  vision.  If  a  partial  and  in- 
terrupted view  of  Him  beget  partial  similitude  on 
earth,  the  vision  of  '  Him  as  He  is'  will  surely  bring 
us  into  full  and  final  conformity.  In  the  same  way 
as,  by  a  discovery  of  modern  science,  the  rays  of  the 
sun  falling  on  your  countenance  transfer  its  features 
in  an  instant  to  a  surface  of  metal  or  glass,  so  this 
vision  of  Jesus  will  at  once  communicate  to  His 
people  His  blessed  and  ineffaceable  image.  Only 
when  He  comes  again  do  they  wear  their  entire 
nature,  so  as  to  be  capable  of  being  universally  like 
Him ;  for  their  bodies  shall  then  have  been  raised, 
12 


134  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

and  they  shall  stand  before  Him  in  the  fulness  of 
their  human  constitution. 

And  what  pencil  can  sketch  the  features  of  this 
likeness  !  We  can  only  speak  vaguely  about  it. 
Blessed  are  they  who  shall  wear  it ;  and  even  they 
may  be  unable  to  describe  it ;  ay,  and  the  tongue 
of  angels  may  not  be  stocked  with  a  sufficiency  of 
epithets. 

There  is  no  doubt,  however,  that  we  shall  be  like 
Christ  in  mind.  Our  knowledge  is  at  present 
limited  and  confused.  There  are  murky  shadows 
which  float  over  the  intellect,  and  there  are  special 
forms  of  bias  which  delude  and  fascinate  the  heart. 
Our  conceptions  are  unworthy  of  those  noble  ob- 
jects about  which  they  are  formed ;  and  if  a  blush 
may  cover  the  cheek  of  the  redeemed,  it  will  be  ex- 
cited by  the  memory  of  those  low  and  limited  views 
of  divine  truth  and  glory  which  they  occasionally 
cherished  on  earth.  Even  when  we  think  of  our 
Father ;  of  His  love,  His  power,  and  His  glory ;  of 
His  household,  in  its  occupations  ;  and  of  His  home, 
in  its  immortal  blessedness,  —  our  ideas  are  tainted 
with  the  earthliness  of  those  human  relationships 
on  which  they  are  based.  But  we  shall  rise  above 
the  relative  into  the  region  of  the  absolute  and  pure. 
Light  direct  from  the  throne  shall  pervade  the  mind, 
and,  like  the  mists  at  sun-rise,  all  shadows  shall  fade 
away  and  disappear :  '  Kow  we  know  in  part,  and 
we  prophesy  in  part.  But  when  that  which  is  per- 
fect is  come,  then  that  which  is  in  part  shall  be 
done  away.     For  now  we  see  through  a  glass,  dark- 


ADOPTING  LOVE   OF  THE  FATHEK.  135 

ly ;  but  then  face  to  face.'  '  The  new  man,'  put  on 
by  the  beUever,  'is  renewed  in  knowledge,  after 
the  image  of  him  who  created  him.'  What  lessons 
of  subUmity  may  then  be  imparted;  what  large 
and  unanticipated  conceptions  of  the  divine  nature 
and  works,  and  of  the  vast  and  far-reaching  rela- 
tions of  the  economy  of  grace  !  God  shall  be  seen 
in  everything,  and  everything  seen  in  Him.  We 
shall  'have  the  mind  of  Christ,'  and  shall  find  that 
all  that  philosophy  has  expounded,  and  all  that  the 
Bible  has  discovered  are  '  childish  things,'  and  as 
such,  are  completely  superseded.  'Xow  I  know  in 
part;  but  then  shall  I  know  even  as  I  am  known.' 
And  we  shall  also  be  like  Him  in  heart ;  for  our 
spiritual  nature  shall  be  perfected.  The  last  and 
loftiest  attainments  of  holiness  shall  be  reached. 
Love  shall  hold  an  undivided  empire  within  us. 
What  is  foreign  to  our  nature  shall  be  taken  out  of 
it,  and  itself  'filled  with  all  the  fullness  of-  God.' 
Whatever  you  venerate  as  holy  or  admire  as  good, 
shall  be  concentrated  in  the  person  of  the  glorified 
saint.  Every  grace  in  Christ's  heart  sliall  have  a  re- 
flection of  itself  in  the  hearts  of  all  His  worshipping 
brethren.  There  shall  be  '  no  more  conscience  of  sin  ;' 
all  its  forms  and  all  the  evils  it  has  brou2:ht  shall  be 
for  ever  done  away.  '  The  glory  of  God'  now  seen 
in  the  face  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,'  shall  then  be 
seen  also  in  the  face  of  all  the  members  of  the  house- 
hold. The  perfection  of  Christ  shall  distinguish  every 
one  of  them ;  for  they  '  shall  be  satisfied,  when  they 
awake,  with  his  likeness.'   Who  would  not  hope  for 


136  THE     DIVINE    LOVE. 

this,  and  who  would  not  willingly  die  in  order  to 
reach  it?  Snch  a  perfected  nature  must  also  enjoy 
intimate  fellowship  with  His  Father  and  their  Father, 
His  God  and  their  God.  The  children,  as  they  see 
Him,  and  adore  His  glory,  shall  feel  for  ever  as  one 
with  Him.  I^othing  shall  be  a  barrier  to  their  com- 
munion ;  for  though  the  person  of  an  angel  should 
pass  between  them  and  the  throne,  it  would  cast  no 
shadow  upon  them.  Their  happiness,  too,  will  be 
unalloyed  —  no  pang  can  be  felt,  and  no  tear  can 
ever  fall.  'No  one  shall  ever  say,  *I  am  sick,'  and 
the  symbol  of  mourning  shall  never  be  seen  on  their 
robe ;  for  the  elder  Brother  '  has  abolished  death.' 
'  They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any 
more ;  neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any 
heat.  For  the  Lamb,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the 
throne,  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them  unto 
living  fountains  of  water ;  and  God  shall  wipe  away 
all  tears  from  their  eyes.' 

*  Ye  \rheels  of  nature,  speed  your  course, 

Ye  mortal  powers  decay — 
Fast  as  ye  bring  the  night  of  death, 
Ye  bring  eternal  day/ 

And,  lastly,  we  shall  be  like  Him  in  physical  con- 
stitution. The  brightness  of  heaven  does  not  oppress 
Him,  nor  shall  it  dazzle  us.  Our  humanity  dies, 
indeed,  and  is  decomposed;  but  when  He  appears, 
it  shall  be  raised  and  beautified,  and  fitted  to  dwell 
in  a  region  which  'flesh  and  blood  cannot  inherit.' 
Man  has  been  made  to  dwell  on  earth,  and  on  no 


ADOPTING    LOVE    OF   THE    FATHER.  137 

Other  planet.  If  he  is  to  spend  a  happy  eternity  in 
a  distant  sphere,  his  physical  frame  must  be  prepared 
for  it.  If  he  is  to  see  God  and  yet  live  —  to  serve 
Ilim  in  a  world  where  there  is  no  night  and  no  sleep 
—  to  worship  Him  in  company  with  angels  which 
have  not  the  clog  of  an  animal  frame,  and  like  them 
to  adore  with  continuous  anthem  and  without  ex- 
haustion— then,  surely,  his  nature  must  be  changed, 
for  otherwise  it  would  soon  be  overpowered  by  such 
splendours,  and  would  die  of  ecstasy  amidst  such 
enjoyments.  The  glory  of  heaven  would  speedily 
become  a  delicious  agony.  But  here  is  the  blessed 
promise  —  ^  The  Lord  Jesus  shall  change  our  vile 
bodies,  and  fashion  them  like  unto  his  own  glorious 
bodj'.'  Therefore  these  bodies  shall  cease  to  be 
animal  without  ceasing  to  be  human  bodies,  and  they 
shall  become  '  spiritual'  bodies — etherealised  vehicles 
for  the  pure  spirit  which  shall  be  lodged  within  them. 
'  This  corruptible  must  put  on  incorruption,  and  this 
mortal  must  put  on  immortality.'  And  thus,  in  our 
entire  nature,  '  we  shall  be  like  Him'  —  so  like  our 
illustrious  Prototype,  that  none  can  mistake  the 
family  relation. 

ITow  it  is  only  when  He  shall  appear  that  this 
universal  conformity  shall  be  enjoyed — for  then  shall 
the  bodies  of  His  people  be  raised  and  fitted  for 
heaven.  Up  to  that  period  salvation  is  only  partially 
enjoyed  and  by  instalments,  but  then  total  redemp- 
tion is  possessed.  jSTo  wonder,  then,  that  this  epoch 
is  held  out  to  the  church  as  the  'blessed  hope'  it  is 
*  looking  for.'  And  yet,  strange  to  say,  this  period 
12^- 


138  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

fills  many  minds  witli  alarm.  The  '  last  clay' — how 
terrible  the  time,  how  many  sights  and  sounds  to 
fill  the  spirit  with  consternation  !  Are  we  not  to 
anticipate  the  dissolution  of  nature,  the  wreck  of  the 
elements,  the  ominous  fires  which  no  power  can 
control,  the  sable  blank  of  the  departing  heavens, 
the  innumerable  congregation  summoned  out  of 
earth  and  ocean  by  the  peal  of  the  '  trump  of  God,' 
and  the  wicked  calling  on  the  mountains  and  hills 
to  hide  them  from  the  wrath  of  the  Lamb.  But  oh  ! 
we  are  too  apt  to  forget  the  bright  side  of  the  picture 
— that  then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  we  be  like  Him 
— that  then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  we  see  Him  as 
He  is,  whatever  view  of  Him  our  spirits  in  the 
meantime  may  have,  and  whatever  likeness  to  Him 
in  the  interval  they  may  possess.  Even  in  heaven, 
and  up  to  the  second  coming,  happiness  may  consist 
as  much  in  expectation  as  in  positive  enjoyment, 
so  that  His  appearing  is  the  hope  of  His  church 
universal. 

But  that  hope  is  on  earth  no  dull  and  passive 
emotion,  for  the  apostle  adds,  as  a  practical  con- 
clusion— 

Verse  3,  '  Every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in  him, 
purifies  himself,  even  as  he  is  pure.'  The  words  '  in 
him,'  should  be  'on  Him'  —  that  is  Christ.  The 
apostle  alludes  to  the  basis  of  the  hope  —  Christ 
Himself.  The  hope  of  being  like  Christ  rests  on 
Christ  Himself,  and  on  His  pledge  to  come  again. 
And  that  hope  incites  to  self-purification,  and  that 
self-purification,  has  for  its  perfect  and  lovely  model, 


ADOPTING    LOVE    OF    THE     FATHER.  139 

the  example  of  Christ.  '  lie  is  pure' — the  incarna- 
tion of  purity.  His  friends  who  knew  Ilim  best, 
affirmed,  *in  him  was  no  sin.'  He  threw  out  this 
challenge  to  His  enemies,  '  Which  of  you  convinceth 
me  of  sin  V  Of  him  whose  delight  it  would  have 
been  to  find  a  flaw,  and  who  would  have  found  it 
if  he  could.  He  said,  'The  prince  of  this  world 
Cometh,  and  findeth  nothing  in  me.'  The  traitor, 
who  would  certainly  have  laid  his  conscience  to  rest 
if  he  had  been  able,  cried  out,  as  he  cast  from  him 
the  coveted  wages  of  his  treachery,  *  I  have  sinned, 
I  have  betrayed  the  innocent  blood.'  And  the  voice 
from  the  '  excellent  glory'  crowned  every  attestation 
— '  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well 
pleased.' 

To  the  life  of  Christ,  every  child  of  God  will 
always  turn  his  eye.  The  more  earnestly  he  looks, 
the  more  beauty  he  will  find.  Painters  speak  of 
making  some  work  of  the  old  masters  their  'study.' 
Their  meaning  is,  that  they  devote  day  after  day  to 
the  inspection  of  the  picture,  and  as  they  gaze  upon 
it,  beauty  after  beauty  bursts  upon  their  enraptured 
vision.  Thus  the  sons  of  God  must  make  the  life 
of  Jesus  their  study,  and  hold  it  up  before  them  as 
the  one  model,  till  they  understand  it  more  fully, 
love  it  more  cordially,  and  eoipy  it  with  a  closer 
uniformity.  And  it  is  the  hope  of  ultimate  success 
in  this  imitation  that  leads  them  now  to  make  a 
vigorous,  prolonged,  and  prayerful  efibrt.  Their 
aim  is  to  be  as  like  Him  as  they  can  be  here,  in  the 
hope  that  they  shall  be  perfectly  like  Him  hereafter. 


140  THE    DIVINE     LOVE. 

*  Every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in  him,  pnrifieth 
himself.'  Who  would  engage  in  this  work,  and  for 
it  pluck  out  his  right  eye  or  cut  off  his  right  arm, 
if  he  had  not  the  hope  or  assurance  that  such  self- 
denial  and  '  labour  shall  not  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord  V 
Wherefore,  the  coming  of  the  Lord  is  vitally  con- 
nected with  our  whole  spiritual  life ;  all  our  graces 
and  feelings,  as  well  as  prospects,  have  it  ever  in^ 
view;  so  that,  when  He  says,  'Behold,  I  come 
quickly,'  the  response,  ay,  and  the  welcome  of  our 
souls  is,  *Amen.     Even  so  come.  Lord  Jesus.' 

And  now  the  main  question  is.  Are  we  the  sons 
of  God  ?  Does  His  Spirit  so  bear  witness  with  our 
spirits?  Are  we  able  to  say  that  we  are  in  the 
divine  family  ?  Is  it  the  language  of  your  true  ex- 
perience, that  you  '  have  received  the  adoption  of 
children  ?'  O  do  not  deceive  yourselves.  I  do  not 
ask  whether  you  have  resolved  to  return,  or  haVe 
travelled  back  a  portion  of  the  journey,  or  have 
even  come  to  the  threshold ;  but,  have  you  crossed 
that  threshold,  and  are  you  really  in  the  house  ?  Be 
not  contented  with  saying,  We  wish  it  were  so,  or 
we  hope  it  is  so.  Ah  !  the  wish  may  never  be  ful- 
filled, and  the  hope  may  never  be  realised.  Many 
a  one,  with  such  a  wish  on  his  lips  and  such  a  hope 
in  his  heart,  has  lulled  himself  into  eternal  ruin. 
And  O  remember  that  if  you  are  not  in  God's  family, 
'ye  are  of  your  father  the  devil.'  Will  you  not  dis- 
own such  a  frightful  paternity,  and  will  you  not 
shudder  at  its  terrible  destiny  —  'everlasting  fire, 
prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels.'     Delay  not. 


ADOPTING   LOVE   OF   THE   FATHER.  141 

we  implore  yon,  in  coming  back;  li^,^e  no  longer  in 
such  society,  and  with  such  empty  enjoyments. 
The  Father  waits  you;  the  whole  house  will  he 
moved  to  greet  you  at  your  return. 

And  if  you  be  the  sons  of  God,  what  love  will 
you  not  cherish  towards  such  a  Father,  and  what 
obedience  must  you  not  render  to  all  His  command- 
ments? Be  *  obedient  children,  not  fashioning 
yourselves  according  to  your  former  lusts  in  your 
ignorance  ;'  but  '  prove  what  is  that  good,  and  ac- 
ceptable, and  perfect  will  of  God.'  He  will  not 
overtask  you,  and  you  will  find  highest  happiness 
in  filial  devotion  and  service.  'Need  we  bid  you 
love  also  the  whole  household  of  faith  —  every  one 
that  bears  your  Father's  image. 

And,  in  conclusion,  as  long  as  you  are  here,  feel 
that  you  are  '  strangers  and  pilgrims.'  '  This  is  not 
your  rest,'  your  home  is  on  high.  When  another 
and  yet  another  of  your  brethren  dies,  be  not  alarm- 
ed, it  is  only  his  Father  calling  him  home.  When 
you  think  of  your  own  mortality,  ever  regard  it  in 
this  light — as  the  child  crossing  the  disturbed  brook 
which  separates  him  from  home.  And  the  elder 
Brother  will  guide  you — 'I  will  come  again,'  says 
He,  '  and  take  you  to  myself.'  Thus  shall  you  reach 
your  Father's  house,  and  then  shall  you  fully  know 
'what  manner  of  love  the  Father  hath  bestowed 
upon  you,  that  you  should  be  called  the  sons  of 
God ;'  and  then  also  shall  you  feel  w^hat  it  is  to  be 
like  Him,  when  you  shall  have  seen  Him  as  He  is. 
To  Him,  with  the  Father,  and  the  ever-blessed 
Spirit,  be  glory  and  power,  now  and  ever.     Amen. 


142  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 


LECTUEE  VI. 


MEASUREMENT  OF  THE  SON  S  LOVE  TO  HIS  PEOPLE. 

John  xv.  9. 

*As  my  Father  hath  loved  me,  so  have  I  loved  you.* 

I  HAVE  LOVED  YOU.'  Blessed  Jesus,  we  know  it, 
and  we  cannot  doubt  it.  There  is  not  a  moment  of 
our  lives  in  which  we  are  not  reminded  of  it.  Every 
blessing  we  possess  leads  us  to  the  cross,  the  scene 
of  Thy  love  in  its  noblest  victory,  and  impels  us  to 
look  up  to  the  throne  on  which  Thou  sittest  in  be- 
nign and  generous  supremacy.  The  church  is  filled 
and  fragrant  with  it;  'it  drops  as  sweet-smelling 
myrrh  upon  the  handles  of  the  lock.'  The  life  and 
joy  of  every  holy  bosom,  is  this  precious  truth  from 
the  lips  of  Him  whose  heart  was  the  home  of  love. 
May  He  not  appeal  to  His  birth,  His  baptism.  His 
agony.  His  death  and  burial,  as  tokens  of  His  vast 
and  ineffable  fondness,  and  say,  'I  have  loved  you.' 
These  facts  are  irresistible  evidence ;  for  they  are 
the  elements  of  a  history  imbued  with  love.  The 
babe  on  his  mother's  lap ;  the  boy  in  the  temple ; 
the  man  on  the  bank  of  the  Jordan,  receiving  the 


LOVE    OF    FATHER   AND    SON.  143 

Spirit,  and  in  the  wilderness,  wrestling  \\nth  the 
tempter;  the  victim  scourged  and  crucified;  the 
corpse  wrapt  in  linen  and  spices,  —  are  features  of 
a  picture  on  which  the  eye  is  never  tired  of  looking, 
while  the  tongue  is  exclaiming  in  rapture,  '  Herein 
is  love.' 

But  the  Lord's  assertion  of  this  cheering  fact,  ^  I 
have  loved  you,'  is  preceded  by  a  bewildering  state- 
ment—  ^As  the  Father  hath  loved  me.'  Amazing 
thought,  that  the  Father's  love  to  the  Son  should 
be  the  model  and  the  measurement  of  the  Son's 
love  to  His  people  !  We  may  not  comprehend  the 
statement.  How  indeed  can  we?  'Who  can  by 
searching  find  out  God,  who  can  find  out  the  Al- 
mighty unto  perfection  ?'  We  do  not  plead  for  iden- 
tity in  all  respects,  between  the  Father's  love  to  the 
Son,  and  the  Son's  love  to  His  people  ;  but  we  plead 
for  a  similarity  which  really  amounts  to  it.  For 
men  can  never  bear  the  same  relation  to  Christy 
that  Christ  bears  to  God.  In  the  one  case,  the  sub- 
ject and  object  are  the  same,  and  the  aifection  of  a 
divine  person  is  lavished  upon  a  divine  person  ;  but 
in  the  other  case,  they  are  widely  difierent  —  as  we 
are  at  once  guilty  creatures,  who  have  no  claim  on 
Christ's  attachment,  and  are  also  finite  creatures, 
who  cannot  therefore  absorb  the  whole  of  it.  Yet 
we  may  glean  something  to  satisfy  us;  we  can 
wander  along  the  frontier,  though  we  may  not  enter 
the  unexplored  territory.  We  may  look  at  the 
clusters  brought  from  Eschol,  though  we  may  not 
scan  the  luxuriant  foliage  and  fruits  of  its  vineyards. 


144  THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 

If  the  Son's  love  to  us  be  as  the  Father's  love  to 
Him,  we  are  surely  warranted  to  rest  upon  it  as  an 
eternal,  infinite,  and  unchanging  aiFection. 

I.  The  Father's  love  to  the  Son  is  an  eternal  love, 
and,  therefore,  so  is  the  Son's  love  to  His  people. 
For  Father  and  Son  have  co- existed  from  eternity, 
and  their  mutual  affection,  like  themselves,  had  no 
commencement.  Both  being  perfectly  holy,  no 
other  feeling  than  love  could  subsist  between  them. 
The  Father  must  love  His  own  image,  and  that 
*  express  image'  being  ever  before  Him,  love  must 
have  for  ever  glowed  in  His  bosom  towards  Him 
who  lay  there.  Had  there  been  a  period  when  the 
Son  was  not,  or  when  His  likeness  to  His  Father 
was  not  complete,  this  affection  might  have  begun 
to  exist  only  when  the  Son  sprang  into  being,  or 
when  He  began  to  assume,  in  their  fulness,  the  fea- 
tures of  the  paternal  resemblance.  But  the  Son  claims 
a  co-equal  eternity,  an  underived  divinity,  and  being 
so  pure  and  so  lovely,  must  have  been  from  everlast- 
ing the  object  of  the  divine  complacenc}^  '  The  Lord 
possessed  me  in  the  beginning  of  his  way,  before  his 
works  of  old.  .  .  .  Then  I  was  by  him,  as  one  brought 
up  with  him :  and  I  was  daily  his  delight.'  Yes, 
the  Son  is  eternal  and  self-existent,  and  is  styled 
'He  who  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come.'  He  is  'be- 
fore all  things  ;'  for  he  summoned  them  into  being, 
and  He  preserves  them  in  it.  "What  an  unhallowed 
perversion  to  ascribe  the  commencement  of  His  ex- 
istence to  the  date  of  His  birth,  or  even  to  regard 


LOVE   OF    FATHER   AND   SON.  145 

Him  as  the  earliest  and  highest  of  the  creatures  of 
God?  Is  He  not  the  same  in  His  moral  and  physi- 
cal attrihutes  with  the  Father  ?  For  they  are  both 
objects  of  worship,  wielding  the  same  prerogatives, 
and  clothed  in  the  same  holiness  and  majesty.  If, 
then,  we  are  warranted  to  apply  to  eternity  the 
phraseology  suggested  by  the  duration  of  time,  we 
may  surely  say  that  the  eternal  Father  has  loved 
His  own  eternal  Son  in  all  the  past  periods  of  their 
co-existence. 

And  if  so,  if  the  Father's  love  to  His  Son  never 
began  to  be,  but  always  was ;  so,  in  a  similar  way, 
the  Son's  love  to  us  never  began  to  be,  but  always 
was.  Being  eternal  Himself,  all  the  emotions  of 
His  heart  are  unbeginning.  Affections  of  love  or 
hatred  rise  in  the  heart  of  man,  as  objects  amiable 
or  hostile  present  themselves.  No  one  of  us  can 
tell  how  soon  any  emotion  may  be  created  within 
him,  or  what  may  be  its  sweep  or  character.  It 
may  be  fear,  if  danger  be  apprehended ;  or  hope,  if 
good  be  anticipated ;  or  sorrow,  if  ill  be  borne ;  or 
joy,  if  blessing  be  received;  or  anger,  if  injury  be 
inflicted ;  or  gratitude,  if  unmerited  favour  be  con- 
ferred. But  in  the  mind  of  the  Son,  there  can  be 
no  such  changes  or  vicissitudes:  'All  things  are 
naked  and  open  to  the  eyes  of  him  with  whom  we 
have  to  do.'  The  guilt  and  miser}^  of  man  were 
present  to  Him  from  eternity;  and,  therefore,  He 
can  say,  '  I  have  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love ; 
therefore  with  everlasting  kindness  have  I  drawn 
thee.'  There  was  no  epoch  when  His  mind  was 
13 


146  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

charged  with  enmity  towards  us;  neither  did  the 
sin  of  our  world  so  take  Him  by  surprise  as  to  con- 
vert a  previous  affection  into  enmity.  0,  then, 
what  origin  can  you  assign  to  His  love,  if  it  be  not 
coeval  with  His  nature  ? 

Supposing  that  His  love  did  not  exist  from  eter- 
nity, what  posterior  source  could  you  possibly  ima- 
gine for  it?  Could  you  ever  dream  that  your 
existence  would  be  necessary  to  His  happiness,  and 
that  He  must  therefore  love  and  save  you  ;  or  that 
the  repair  of  the  ruin  was  a  natural  and  indispen- 
sable work  on  the  part  of  Him  who  had  first  erected 
the  structure  ?  Or,  if  you  turn  your  vision  upon 
yourselves,  can  you  be  so  vain  as  to  believe  that  you 
can  discover  within  you  anything  having  power  to 
excite  the  affection  of  the  Son  of  God  ?  Did  you 
even  mourn  over  your  lapse,  and  sigh  and  cry  unto 
Him  to  save  you  ?  What  more  provoking  to  Him 
than  your  sin,  or  more  revolting  than  your  spiritual 
pride,  hostility,  and  deformity  !  True  ;  but  His  love 
had  no  temporal  beginning ;  for  it  pre-existed  you, 
and  it  pre-existed  time.  It  was  ever  in  Him,  and 
prompted  Him  from  eternity  to  make  provision  for 
your  recovery.  It  is  no  momentary  compassion 
produced  by  your  unexampled  wretchedness ;  no 
incidental  commiseration  stirred  up  within  Him  for 
the  first  time,  when  He  saw  you  ^  lying  in  your 
blood.'  It  is  not  an  impulse,  but  an  eternal  emotion, 
sublime  alike  in  the  awful  remoteness  of  its  past, 
■and  in  the  unvarying  nearness  of  its  present  exist- 
ence. *As  my  Father  hath  loved  me,  so  ^  ive  I 
loved  you.' 


LOVE   OF   FATHER   AND   SON.  147 

11.  The  love  of  the  Father  to  the  Son  is  an  infi- 
nite love,  and  therefore  so  is  the  Son's  love  to  His 
people.  Every  emotion  in  God  is  co-extensive  with 
His  nature,  and  that  nature  is  infinite  —  its  centre 
being  everywhere,  but  its  circumference  nowhere. 
'Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit?  or  whither 
shall  I  llee  from  thy  presence  ?  If  I  ascend  up  into 
heaven,  thou  art  there :  if  I  make  my  bed  in  hell, 
behold,  thou  art  there.  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the 
morning,  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
sea ;  even  there  shall  thy  hand,  lead  me,  and  thy 
right  hand  shall  hold  me.'  "We  believe,  too,  that  all 
that  has  been  eternal  in  its  existence  is  also  and  ne- 
cessarily limitless  in  its  extent — that  He  who  inhab- 
ited eternity,  must  also  fill  immensity.  That  God 
loves  Himself  with  infinite  complace'ncy,  will  not  be 
questioned ;  and  as  His  Son  is  His  other  Self,  the 
afiection  cherished  towards  Him  will  also  be  without 
limitation.  What  has  God"  w^hich  His  Son  has  not 
— what  attribute  which  his  Son  does  not  possess  in 
a  similar  degree  —  what  property  does  He  love  in 
Himself,  that  he  does  not  equally  love  in  the  '  Only- 
begotten  V  And  if  these  properties  be  all  of  them 
infinite  in  the  Son,  the  love  excited  by  them  will 
correspond  in  its  measure. 

Therefore,  like  His  Father's  love  to  Himself  is 
the  Son's  love  to  His  own.  0  who  can  mete  out 
its  bounds !  You  might  numl)er  the  sand  on  the 
sea-shore,  or  tell  the  stars  of  the  firmament — the 
difficulty  of  calculation  might  be  surmounted ;  but 
never  could  you  compute  the  depth  and  extent  of 


148  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

the  Lord's  affection  for  you.  Alas  that  we  have  so 
low  and  unworthy  conceptions  of  it!  Could  we 
expand  our  souls  to  its  full  idea,  we  should  create 
heaven  upon  earth.  Yet  we  may  have  some  notion 
of  it.  'Ye  know  the  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
that,  though  he  was  rich,  yet  for  your  sakes  he  be- 
came poor,  that  ye  through  his  poverty  might  be 
rich.'  Ineffable  condescension !  Rich  He  was  in 
the  possession  of  divine  glory,  and  the  enjoyment 
of  unsurpassed  felicity,  receiving  the  ardent  homage 
of  the  noblest  intelligences,  and  the  hymn  of  the 
great  universe  ever  rising  before  Him  in  mighty 
and  varied  minstrelsy;  and  yet  He  became  poor  — 
born  in  penury  —  'for  low  lies  His  bed  with  the 
beasts  of  the  stall' — living  a  life  of  privation — earn- 
ing His  bread  by  the  sweat  of  His  brow  as  a  village 
mechanic —  'a  worm  and  no  man'  —  His  character 
aspersed,  and  Himself  branded  as  a  wine-bibber,  a 
Sabbath-breaker,  and  an  associate  of  publicans  and 
sinners  —  threatened  to  be  stoned  for  blasphemy — 
mocked,  and  set  at  nought  —  scourged,  and  put 
to  death  by  a  public  and  ignominious  execution. 
"What  but  infinite  love  could  have  stooped  to  such 
sufferings,  or  sustained  Him  under  them?  A  love 
that  might  be  measured  would  have  shrunk  or 
fainted  when  its  energies  were  overstepped.  It 
would  have  trembled  as  it  counted  the  cost ;  thus 
far,  and  no  farther,  would  have  been  its  resolve. 
And  within  the  sphere  of  such  sufferings  there  must 
have  been  intense  anguish  too,  when  '  it  pleased  Je- 
hovah to  bruise  him,  and  put  him  to  grief.'     '  Why 


LOVE   OF   FATHER   AND   SON.  149 

hast  Thou  forsaken  me  ?'  was  a  deep  and  mysterious 
complaint,  wrung  from  Him  who  never  complained 
before.  As  if  the  only  woe  which  He  felt  was  this 
desertion,  it  was  the  only  lamentation  which  lie 
uttered.  Can  that  love  be  fathomed  whicli  could 
voluntarily  bear  such  an  infliction  from  the  hand 
of  a  loving  Father  ?  And  is  He  not  still  before  the 
throne,  pleading  and  guarding  —  provoked,  but  yet 
loving  —  often  grieved,  but  never  withdrawing  His 
attachment  ?  Man's  love  would  weary,  but  Christ's 
is  unquenchable.  It  is  not  a  stream  whose  waters 
might  fail,  but  an  ocean  of  immeasurable  depth  and 
volume — infinite  like  Himself,  and  like  His  Father's 
love  to  Him.  If,  then,  Jesus  has  taken  upon  Him 
our  frail  and  fleshly  nature,  compassed  with  in- 
firmities, and  doomed  to  die;  if,  under  the  judicial 
infliction  of  His  Father,  he  groaned,  and  bled,  and 
expired ;  if  He  lay  in  the  grave  a  lifeless  and 
mangled  corpse ;  if  now  He  intercede,  and  govern, 
and  hold  heaven  in  our  name,  and  be  unsatisfied  till 
all  His  own  are  gathered  around  in  the  '  perfection 
of  beauty'  —  is  not  the  love  that  leads  to  this  self- 
denial,  labour,  and  sacrifice,  boundless  in  its  extent, 
as  well  as  eternal  in  its  origin  ?' 

Nor  can  tve  fail  to  refer  to  the  rich  variety  of 
blessings  which  are  provided  for  us  in  the  fulness  of 
His  love.  Everything  needed  by  us,  and  everything 
as  we  need  it,  is  copiously  supplied.  His  exhaust- 
less  attachment  is  not  worn  out  by  our  perversity 
and  unbelief  'Behold,  I  stand  at  the  door  and 
knock :  if  any  man  hear  my  voice,  and  open  the 


150  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

door,  I  will  come  in  to  him,  and  sup  with  him,  and 
he  with  me.'  Look  on  this  picture.  Look  on  Him, 
at  the  door,  not  upon  the  throne ;  at  the  door,  not 
in  the  gorgeous  livery  of  state,  but  as  a  guest  ex- 
pecting admission  ;  not  merely  glancing  at  the  door, 
as  if  its  portals  were  to  be  thrown  open  in  instinc- 
tive and  loyal  rapidity,  but  standing  and  waiting 
our  time ;  standing,  and  not  departing  under  the 
insult  of  refusal  and  procrastination ;  nay,  so  bent 
is  He  on  admission,  that  He  is  knocking,  as  if  crav- 
ing a  boon,  when  He  might  demand  it  as  a  right, 
and  on  being  denied,  might  shatter  to  pieces  the 
surl}^  and  ungrateful  mansion.  The  very  idea  of 
His  salvation  springs  from  infinite  love.  He  de- 
scended to  earth,  that  we  might  rise  to  heaven.  He 
became  a  servant,  that  we  might  be  sons.  He  was 
made  a  curse  for  us,  that  we  might  experience  bles- 
sing in  Him.  He  wandered  without  a  place  to  lay 
His  head,  that  we  might  have  a  settled  home  in  the 
skies.  He  hungered,  that  we  might  be  filled.  That 
we  should  be  reckoned  among  the  saints,  '  he  was 
numbered  among  transgressors.'  *He  ofiered  up 
supplication,  with  strong  crying  and  tears,'  in  order 
that  we  might  sing  immortal  melodies.  He  died, 
that  we  might  live ;  and  He  lay  in  the  grave,  to 
secure  for  us  a  blessed  resurrection.  Ay,  and  how 
many  have  reaped  the  fruits  of  this  love,  and  yet  it 
is  not  spent — how^  many  have  been  saved,  and  how 
many  will  yet  be  translated  to  heaven  !  The  dark- 
est and  worst  have  been  met  by  His  love ;  and  though^ 
they  had  '  lain  among  the  pots,'  yet  in  the  reflection 


LOVE    OF   FATHER    AND    SON.  151 

of  His  love  they  appear  like  '  doves  whose  wings 
are  covered  with  silver,  and  their  feathers  with 
yellow  gold.'  O  how  it  descends  to  the  impure  and 
wretched  !  Myriads  of  all  ranks  and  classes,  of  all 
characters  and  occupations,  shall  be  blessed  by  it, 
and  shall  bask  in  its  unquenchable  sunshine  for  ever 
and  ever.  Their  happiness  is  of  the  purest  and 
most  exalted  nature  —  they  live  in  light,  and  they 
walk  in  love.  They  '  receive  double'  of  the  Lord 
their  Saviour.  *  They  have  no  sorrow  in  their  song' 
— they  are  comforted  for  all  their  past  tribulations, 
the  tears  are  wiped  from  oft'  all  faces,  for  death  has 
died,  and  mortality  has  been  swallowed  up  of  life. 
Tell  me,  then,  thou  saved  one,  is  not  the  Saviour's 
love  beyond  the  reach  of  thy  comprehension  ?  It 
stretches  away  on  every  side  as  far  as  thou  canst  see. 
The  more  thou  dost  penetrate  into  its  extent,  it  still 
shifts  like  the  horizon  before  thee,  still  encircling 
thee,  and  still  receding  as  thou  wouldst  attempt  to 
near  its  limits,  or  define  its  circuit. 

in.  The  love  of  the  Father  to  the  Son  is  an  un- 
changeable love,  and  therefore  so  is  the  Son's  love 
to  His  people.  The  immutability  of  God  is  derived 
from  His  necessary  existence.  He  depends  on  no 
other  will  or  power;  there  can,  therefore,  be  no 
cause  of  change  without  Him.  Is  or  within  Him- 
self can  there  be  any  source  of  mutation,  for  already 
being  the  best.  He  cannot  change  to  the  better,  and 
any  alteration  to  the  worse  would  be  an  abdication 
of  divinit}'.     Our  confidence  is  based  on  an  un- 


152  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

changing  God.  The  uniformity  of  the  laws  of 
physical  nature  declares  Him  to  be  'of  one  mind,' 
and,  at  the  same  time,  answers  the  question,  '  Who 
can  turn  Him  V  His  proclamation  to  His  universe 
is,  'I  AM  Jehovah:  I  change  not.'  The  orbs  in  the 
sky  rise  and  set,  but  He  is  the  '  Father  of  lights : 
with  whom  is  no  variableness,  neither  shadow  of 
turning.'  Any  suspicion  of  change  on  the  part  of 
God  would  throw  an  eclipse  over  all  His  works,  and 
bring  upon  them  a  suspense — the  very  image  and 
shadow  of  death.  There  may  be  a  change  of  dis- 
pensation, but  there  can  be  none  of  character. 

As  the  Father  is  thus  immutable  in  His  being, 
therefore  is  He  immutable  also  in  His  affections  and 
purposes.  He  loves  His  Son,  and  that  love  can 
admit  neither  of  alteration  nor  diminution.  He 
cannot  love  Him  more,  and  He  will  not  love  Him 
less.  And  if  there  can  be  no  change  in  Him  who 
feels  the  love,  neither  can  there  be  any  in  Him  who 
is  its  divine  recipient,  for  He  is  perfect  as  the  Father. 
Of  Him  specially  it  is  said,  '  Thou,  Lord,  in  the  be- 
ginning has  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earth ;  and 
the  heavens  are  the  works  of  thine  hands :  they  shall 
perish,  but  thou  remainest ;  and  they  all  shall  wax 
old  as  doth  a  garment;  and  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou 
fold  them  up,  and  they  shall  be  changed :  but  thou 
art  the  same,  and  thy  years  shall  not  fail.'  Ere  He 
came  into  the  world  He  enjoyed  an  unvarying 
attachment,  and  '  the  voice  from  the  excellent  glory' 
said  of  Him  after  He  assumed  humanity,  '  This  is 
my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  j)leased.' 


LOVE   OF   FATHER   AND  SON.  153 

And  thus  as  His  Father's  love  to  Him  is  change- 
less, so  is  His  love  to  us.  '  One  day  is  with  the 
Lord  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thousand  years  as 
one  day.'  And  He  Avho  loves  us  is  '  the  same  yester- 
day, to-day,  and  for-ever.'  The  affections  of  men 
are  apt  to  vary,  and  the}^  do  vary,  for  they  are  liahle 
both  to  increase  and  diminution.  A  fault  may  be 
forgiven  to-day,  but  if  repeated  to-morrow  it  may 
be  visited  with  its  appropriate  penalty.  One  trans- 
gressor may  be  pardoned,  but  some  other,  guilt}^  of 
the  same  offence,  may  be  severely  dealt  with.  One 
class  of  offences  may  be  overlooked,  and  another 
species  of  crimes  not  worse,  or  more  aggravated, 
may  have  meted  out  to  it  the  whole  rigour  of  law. 
Man  is  moody  and  capricious,  and  feels  and  acts 
from  momentaiy  impulse,  sometimes  from  unac- 
countable whim.  According  to  the  frame  of  spirit 
in  which  you  find  him,  or  the  peculiar  associations 
which  are  passing  through  his  mind,  or  have  occu- 
pied his  previous  thoughts,  are  the  anticipations  you 
form  of  his  kindness.  But  the  love  of  Jesus,  like 
the  Father's  love  to  Himself,  has  no  caprices.  It 
will  not  cool  and  it  cannot  rise  higher,  for  it  is  infi- 
nite. Glowing  with  quenchless  ardour,  it  needs  no 
additional  excitement.  He  '  endured  the  cross,  de- 
spising the  shame ;'  and  if  it  carried  its  possessor 
through  these  agonies  of  Calvary,  will  it  flag  in  His 
bosom  now  when  every  obstacle  to  its  free  egress 
has  been  so  gloriously  removed  ? 

Could  you  suppose  His  love  capable  of  change, 
how  melancholy  and  dark  would  be  your  prospects ! 


154  THE    DIVINE     LOVE. 

There  would  be  no  certainty  of  your  attaining  life 
—  nay,  there  would  be  a  '  way  to  hell  even  from  the 
gates  of  heaven.'  Let  a  prince  pick  up  a  gipsy 
child  as  it  wandered  in  despair  and  hunger ;  and  let 
him  clothe  it,  educate  it,  and  refine  it,  till  the  style 
of  its  assumed  station  was  felt  to  be  essential  to  its 
happiness ;  and  then  let  him,  in  a  freak,  dismiss  the 
youth  from  his  palace,  and  all  its  coveted  and  ap- 
preciated luxuries,  and  send  him  to  the  '  hedge  and 
highways,'  would  not  such  a  procedure  be  a  refine- 
ment and  excess  of  torture  ?  And,  oh,  would  it  be 
difiierent  if  Jesus  w^ere  to  love  us  for  a  season  — 
throw  his  mantle  over  us  —  declare  us  to  be  his 
brethren  —  fill  us  with  new  desires  and  majestic 
hopes  —  and  then  suddenly,  and  in  a  dismal  mo- 
ment, frown  upon  us  and  exclude  us  from  His  heart ! 
"Would  it  not  be  exalting  us  to  heaven,  and  then 
thrusting  us  down  to  hell ;  allowing  us  to  taste  the 
cup  of  life,  and  then,  as  we  began  to  relish  it,  dash- 
ing it  from  our  lips !  The  bare  thought  of  it  is 
enough  to  madden  us ;  and  we  feel  the  supposition 
of  it  to  be  almost  an  impious  reflection  on  the  Son 
of  God.  Our  hopes  depend  on  the  immutability  of 
Thy  love  —  Jesus,  thou  incarnation  of  love;  for 
those  Thou  lovest  Thou  lovest  unto  the  end  —  sup- 
porting their  souls  by  Thy  grace  —  supplying  all 
their  wants  out  of  Thine  own  fulness  —  still  deepen- 
ing their  faith,  and  lifting  their  spirits  to  Thyself — 
forgiving  their  waywardness  —  assimilating  them  to 
Thy  image,  and  giving  them  indubitable  proofs  of 
Thy  undeviating   and   endless   attachment.     Who 


LOVE    OF   FATHER   AND   SON.  155 

can  forgot  the  fervent  and  lofty  tone  of  the  apostle's 
challenge :  '  AVho  shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
Christ  ?  shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or  persecution, 
or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword  ?  Kay, 
in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors, 
through  him  that  loved  us.  For  I  am  persuaded, 
that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  princi- 
palities, nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things 
to  come,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  crea- 
ture, shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of 
God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.' 

Beyond  change,  or  possibility  of  change,  is  the 
love  of  Christ.  When  we  look  on  the  ancient  rido:es 
of  the  Alps  or  Andes,  so  firm  on  their  base,  and  so 
huge  in  their  aspect,  which  have  so  long  reared  their 
lofty  summits  to  the  sky,  and  borne  upon  them  the 
snows  of  unnumbered  winters,  we  naturally  regard 
them  in  their  sublimity  and  vastness,  as  types  of 
stability.  More  glorious  and  secure  is  the  divine 
love,  for  a  sudden  shock  may  upheave  Hhe  ever- 
lasting mountains'  and  'the  perpetual  hills  may 
bow,'  but  Jehovah  exclaims  in  blessed  triumph, 
'  The  mountains  shall  depart,  and  the  hills  be  re- 
moved ;  but  my  kindness  shall  not  depart  from  thee, 
neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace  be  removed, 
saith  the  Lord  that  hath  mercy  on  thee.'  So  that 
again  and  joyfully  we  revert  to  the  conclusion.  As 
the  Father's  love  to  the  Son  is  immutable,  so  the 
Son's  love  to  us  partakes  of  a  similar  immutabilit}-. 
May  not  He,  therefore  say,  *As  my  Father  hath 
loved  me,  so  have  I  loved  you  ?' 


156  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

ly.  But,  fourthly  and  lastl_y,  as  the  Father's  love 
to  the  Son  did  not  prevent  Him  from  punishing  sin 
in  the  person  of  that  Son  as  our  substitute,  so  the 
love  of  the  Son  to  us  will  not  keep  Him  from  inflict- 
ing on  His  people  any  requisite  chastisement. 
Though  Jesus  ^  were  a  Son,  jet  learned  he  obedience 
by  the  things  which  he  suffered.'  The  law  is  to  be 
satisfied  ere  pardon  be  dispensed,  but  the  Son  of 
God  became  our  surety.  God's  intense  and  un- 
changing hatred  of  sin  must  show  itself  in  and  by 
an  atonement.  Therefore,  the  incarnate  Jesus  died, 
became  '  a  curse,'  '  suffered  once  for  sins,  the  Just 
One  in  the  room  of  unjust  men.'  'He  hath  put 
him  to  grief  '  He  spared  not  his  own  Son.'  Mar- 
vellous thought !  did  not  spare  Him,  with  every  mo- 
tive to  do  so,  if  we  might  employ  the  language  of 
human  analogy.  Yes,  it  was  upon  His  Son — incon- 
ceivably near  to  Him,  inexpressibly  dear  to  Him  — 
the  object  of  His  eternal,  infinite  and  unchanging 
complacency,  that  He  laid  '  the  chastisement  of  our 
peace.'  Had  it  been  from  some  creature  who  stood 
in  a  distant  relation  to  God  that  such  exaction  was 
made,  the  w^onder  might  not  have  been  so  great ; 
but  our  iniquity  was  laid,  in  its  guilt  and  penalty,  on 
the  Son  of  His  bosom,  who  had  ever  been  with  Him 
in  mysterious  and  reciprocal  attachment. 

Nor  did  He  cease  to  love  Him,  when  'he  was 
wounded  for  our  transgressions,'  and  when  it 
'  pleased '  Him,  as  Eighteous  Governor,  '  to  bruise 
him.'  His  affection  abated  not  for  an  instant ;  for 
there  was  no  vindictive  enmity  on  His  part,  and  the 


LOVE    OF    FATHER   AND    SON.  157 

desertion  npoii  the  cross  was  judicial  and  not  per- 
sonal manifestation.  N'ay,  we  are  told  that  God's 
love  for  Ilis  Son  was  one  motive  which  urged  Ilini 
to  commit  to  Christ  the  salvation  of  men  ;  and  the 
Son's  love  to  Ilis  Father  was  shown  and  glorified  in 
His  acceptance  of  the  enterprise.  '  The  Father 
loveth  the  Son,  and  hath  given  all  things  into  his 
hand.'  'But  that  the  world  may  know  that  I  love 
the  Father  ;  and  as  the  Father  gave  me  command- 
ment, even  so  I  do.'  And  if  you  could  imagine  any 
purerintensity  of  an  infinite  love,  or  any  crisis  when 
its  thrill  was  deeper,  might  we  not  point  to  the 
scenes  of  the  garden  and  of  Golgotha ;  for  then  was 
displayed,  in  high  and  hallowed  majesty,  the  love  of 
that  Son  to  His  Father,  when  '  he  bowed  his  head, 
and  gave  up  the  ghost ;'  then  was  reflected,  in  bright 
serenity,  the  purest  virtue  and  the  tenderest  grace ; 
then  was  developed,  under  sufiering,  what  the  man 
Jesus  really  was,  how  perfect  and  noble  ;  and  then 
was  laid  a  foundation  for  '  glory  to  God  in  the 
highest,'  and  for  'peace  on  earth.'  Therefore  doth 
my  father  love  me,  because  I  lay  down  my  life,  that 
I  might  take  it  again.'  The  sufiering  laid  upon 
Jesus  by  his  Father  was  in  no  way  inconsistent  with 
His  Father's  perfect  love,  but  rather  showed  its 
august  and  mysterious  depth  and  power. 

ISTow,  in  a  similar  way,  Christ's  love  to  His  people 
is  in  complete  harmony  with  His  administration  of 
discipline.  Though  they  are  brought  within  the 
bond  of  the  covenant,  they  are  liable  to  sin,  and 
such  liability  exposes  them  to  chastisement.  But  0 
14 


158  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

do  not  imagine  that  His  love  changes.  Parents  on 
earth  chastise  *  after  their  pleasure ;  but  he  for  your 
profit.'  Afflicted  brother,  do  not  hang  thy  harp  upon 
the  willow ;  but  tune  it  to  a  high  melody  :  '  Though 
he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him.'  He  loves  thee 
dearly,  and  never  more  dearly  than  when  He  chas- 
tises thee.  His  love  at  such  a  time  has  a  special 
penetration — it  searches  thee  and  knows  thee,  finds 
a  way  to  thy  heart  of  hearts,  and  works  out  glory 
for  thee.  It  is  surely  sinful  and  wayward  on  the 
part  of  Zion  to  moan  and  say,  '  The  Lord  hath  for- 
saken me,  and  my  God  hath  forgotten  me.'  Let 
your  afflictions  be  what  they  may,  never  doubt  His 
love.  It  may  be  that  these  afflictions  are  complex, 
heavy,  and  prolonged,  and  that  your  sorrow  is  deeper 
than  any  to  be  seen  around  you  —  yet  why  should 
you  despond ;  your  agony  is  not  penal  evil,  but  be- 
nign castigation.  There  is  some  lesson  which  you 
must  learn,  and  the  fraternal  preceptor  is  striving  to 
impress  it —  something  which  is  as  yet  but  a  mere 
element  of  theory,  but  which  needs  to  be  deepened 
into  one  of  experience.  He  who  knows  your  frame 
adopts  this  method  of  promoting  a  spiritual  revolu- 
tion within  you.  O,  then,  in  the  day  of  gloom, 
rejoice  in  the  inspired  soliloquy,  '  Why  art  thou  cast 
down,  O  my  soul?  and  why  art  thou  disquieted 
within  me  ?  Hope  thou  in  God ;  for  I  shall  yet 
praise  him,  who  is  the  health  of  my  countenance, 
and  ni}^  God.'  Christ's  love  is  without  bound  and 
without  end,  and  when  it  impels  to  your  discipline, 
it  ^  worketh  out  the  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness.' 


LOVE   OF   FATHER   AND   SON.  159 

Feel,  then,  that  Ilis  love  is  quite  compatible  with 
your  correction,  nay,  that  it  is  love  in  its  tenclerest 
form,  and  under  its  most  practical  adaptation  to  your 
present  and  eternal  welfare. 

O,  then,  surely  the  statement  we  have  been  con- 
sidering will  deeply  and  permanently  impress  us. 
What  ground  have  we  not  for  confidence  ?  Can  any 
believer  perish  when  such  a  love  encircles  him? 
What  purity  and  fervour  should  characterise  our 
love  to  Christ !  How  indelibly  should  the  commands 
be  engraven  on  our  hearts, '  Continue  ye  in  my  love ;' 
'  Keep  yourselves  in  the  love  of  God.'  To  forfeit 
such  a  love  would  be  to  forfeit  all :  *  If  ye  keep  my 
commandments,  ye  shall  abide  in  my  love ;  even  as 
I  have  kept  my  Father's  commandments,  and  abide 
in  his  love.'  *  Ye  that  love  the  Lord,  hate  evil:  he 
preserveth  the  souls  of  his  saints.' 

Besides,  Christ's  love  to  us  should  picture  out  that 
kind  of  love  which  we  ought  to  bear  to  the  brethren. 
'  This  is  my  commandment,  that  ye  love  one  another, 
as  I  have  loved  you.'  Our  duty  is  to  regard  them 
with  un deviating  fondness,  loving  Christ  in  them, 
loving  them  without  reserve  and  without  interrup- 
tion. Alas  !  how  feeble  is  our  imitation  of  Christ's 
love  —  as  a  drop  in  comparison  with  the  ocean — as 
a  cloud  in  front  of  the  deep  and  impenetrable  blue 
of  the  sky  beyond  it. 

And,  in  fine,  let  the  idea  and  consciousness  of  this 
love  reign  within  you.  Amidst  all  the  sin  and  the 
discipline,  the  trials  and  crosses  of  life — even  when 
conscience  accuses,  and  deep  confession  of  unworthi- 


160  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

ness  is  poured  out  before  the  throne,  and  prolonged 
and  earnest  prayer  bursts  from  the  heart  surcharged 
with  sorrow — let  this  be  your  consolation — your  bow 
in  the  storm  —  that  the  Father's  love  to  the  Son  is 
the  model  and  measurement  of  the  Son's  love  to 
His  chosen  ones.  'He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him 
hear,'  and  lay  up  in  his  heart,  the  amazing  declara- 
tion, *  As  my  Father  hath  loved  me,  so  have  I  loved 
you.'  Thus,  by  divine  grace,  shall  be  fulfilled  in  you 
the  Lord's  own  prayer,  'I  have  declared  unto  them 
thy  name,  and  will  declare  it,  that  the  love  where- 
with thou  hast  loved  me  may  be  in  them,  and  I  in 
them.' 


THE   LOVING-KINDNESS   OF   THE   LORD.  IGl 


LECTUEE  VIL 


THE  LOVING-KINDNESS    OF   THE   LORD,  ON  THE  WILD,  IN 
THE  DUNGEON,  IN  THE  SICK-ROOM,  AND  ON  THE  SEAS. 

A    MEDITATION. 
Psalm  cvii. 


0  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  for  he  is  good;  for  his  mercy  en- 
durethfor  ever.  Let  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  say  so,  whom  he 
hath  redeemed  from  the  hand  of  the  enemy  ;  and  gathered  them 
out  of  the  lands,  from  the  east,  and  from  the  west,  from  the  north, 
and  from  the  south.  They  ivandered  in  the  loilderness  in  a 
solitary  way;  they  found  no  city  to  divell  in.  Hungry  and  thirsty, 
their  sold  fainted  in  them.  Then  they  cried  unto  the  Lord  in 
their  trouble,  and  he  delivered  them  out  of  their  distress.  And  he 
led  them  forth  by  the  right  way,  that  they  might  go  to  a  city  of 
habitation.  Oh  that  men  ivould  praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness, 
and  for  his  tvonderfid  works  to  the  children  of  men  !  For  he  satis- 
Jieth  the  longing  soul,  andflleth  the  hungry  soid  loith  goodness. 
Such  as  sit  in  darkness,  and  in  the  shadow  of  death,  being 
hound  in  affliction  andiron;  because  tliey  rebelled  against  the 
words  of  God,  and  contemned  the  counsel  of  the  most  High; 
therefore  he  brought  down  their  heart  with  labour :  they  fell  doicn 
and  there  was  none  to  help.  Then  they  cried  unto  the  Lord  in 
their  trouble,  and  he  saved  them  out  of  their  distresses.  He 
brought  them  out  of  darkness  and  the  shadoiu  of  death,  and  brake 
their  bands  in  sunder.    Oh  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for 

14- 


162  THE     DIVINE     LOVE. 

his  goodness,  and  for  Ids  wonderfid  works  to  the  children  of  men! 
For  he  hath  broken  the  gates  of  brass,  and  cut  the  bars  of  iron 
in  sunder.  Fools,  because  of  their  transgression,  and  because  of 
their  iniquities,  are  afflicted ;  their  soid  abhorreth  all  manner 
of  meat ;  and  they  draw  near  unto  the  gates  of  death.  Then  they 
cry  unto  the  Lord  in  their  trouble,  and  he  saveth  them  out  of  their 
distresses.  He  sent  his  word,  and  healed  them,  and  delivered 
them  from  their  destructions.  Oh  that  men  ivoidd  praise  the  Lord 
for  his  goodness,  and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  children 
of  men  !  And  let  them  sacrifice  the  sacrifices  of  thanksgiving, 
and  declare  his  loorks  icith  rejoicing.  They  that  go  down  to  the 
sea  in  ships,  that  do  business  in  great  waters ;  these  see  the  ioo7'ks 
of  the  Lordy  and  his  wonders  in  the  deep.  For  he  commandeth, 
and  raiseth  the  stormy  wind,  ivhich  lifteth  up  the  waves  thereof 
They  mount  up  to  the  heaven,  they  go  down  again  to  the  depths  ; 
their  soul  is  melted  because  of  trouble.  They  reel  to  and  fro, 
and  stagger  like  a  drunken  man,  and  are  at  their  icifs  end. 
Then  they  cry  unto  the  Lord  in  their  trouble,  aiid  he  bringeth 
them  out  of  their  distresses.  He  maketh  the  storm  a  calm,  so  that 
the  waves  thereof  are  still.  Then  are  they  glad  because  they  be 
quiet;  so  he  bringeth  them  \into  their  desired  haven.  Oh  that 
7nen  ivould  praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for  his  wonder- 
fid  works  to  the  children  of  men  1  .  .  .  Whoso  is  wise,  and 
will  observe  these  things,  even  they  shall  understand  the  loving- 
kindness  of  the  Lord.' 

'Whoso  is  wise,  and  will  observe  these  things, 
even  they  shall  understand  the  loving-kindness  of 
the  Lord.'  May  we  be  enabled  to  exercise  the  power 
of  observation,  may  we  be  filled  with  the  grace  of 
understanding,  and  may  we  find  the  theme  to  be 
possessed  of  increasing  attractions,  so  that '  gladness 
and  joy  shall  be  found  therein,  thanksgiving  and  the 
voice  of  melody.'  The  Psalmist  selects  some  rich 
and  remarkable  instances  of  God's  gracious  inter- 


THE   LOVING-KINDNESS   OF   THE   LORD.         163 

position,  bids  his  readers  study  them  aud  form  their 
own  conchisions  IVom  them.  If  we  wish  to  *  under- 
stand' the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord,  we  need  not 
speculate,  we  have  only  to  ^  observe ;'  and  we  have 
not  anxiously  to  cast  about  for  examples,  as  they 
.  are  gathered  and  classified  for  us  in  the  induction 
wdiich  distinguishes  this  inspired  song.  Let  us  then 
be  'wise'  and  'observe'  them  —  let  us  interrogate 
them,  and  find  what  they  say,  singly  and  collectively, 
of  'the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord.'  Besides  the 
miscellaneous  illustrations  that  occur  towards  the 
end  of  the  Psalm,  there  are  four  special  instances 
set  before  us :  the  wanderer  in  the  desert ;  the  pri- 
soner reduced  to  slavery  ;  the  poor  and  helpless  in- 
valid ;  and  the  mariner  overtaken  by  the  storm  ; 
while  the  record  of  each  instance  ends  with  the 
hearty  refrain — '  Oh  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord 
for  his  goodness,  and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the 
children  of  men.'  If,  then,  we  '  will  observe  these 
things,'  and  if  w^e  analyze  the  form,  the  period,  and 
the  result  of  these  divine  manifestations,  we  shall, 
by  the  divine  blessing,  '  understand '  something  of 
the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord.     And, 

I.  If  one  '  is  wise  and  will  observe  these  things,' 
he  '  shall  understand  the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord' 
to  be  efi:ectual  loving-kindness.  It  gives  complete 
relief.  It  is  no  mockery  of  favour,  no  semblance 
of  love.  It  deals  not  in  half  measures,  but  secures 
complete  deliverance.  In  order  to  prove  this,  let  us 
obey  the  Psalmist  aud  '  observe.' 


164  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

The  wanderer  in  the  wilderness  has  lost  his  path, 
and  knows  not  whither  he  is  going ;  there  are  no 
marks  to  guide  him,  no  footprints  which  he  may 
select  and  follow;  all  about  him  is  monotonous 
sameness,  the  sultry  sk}^  above  him,  and  the  dreary 
waste,  as  far  as  his  eye  can  reach,  on  every  side  of 
him.  And  what  is  now  done  for  him  ?  The  divine 
jCare  does  not  pave  a  path  for  him  through  the  quag-^ 
•mires,  remove  a  few  sand-hills,  vail  the  heavens  to 
cool  him,  open  a  spring  for  his  thirst,  or  create  an 
oasis  on  which  he  may  refresh  his  weary  limbs.  'No ; 
it  does  a  more  thorough  work  for  him,  for  it  guides 
him  out  of  the  desert — keeps  him  in  the  ^  right  path,' 
and  leaves  him  not  till  it  brings  him  '  to  a  city  of 
habitation.'  It  also  effectually  provides  for  him  — 
gives  him  not  a  scanty  repast,  the  tasting  of  which 
only  whets  his  appetite  for  more,  but  ^  He  satisfieth 
the  longing  soul,  and  filleth  the  hungr}*  soul  with 
goodness.'  The  deliverance  is  complete,  and  safety 
is  secured. 

Again,  the  slave  is  shut  up  in  the  dungeon,  into 
which  '  the  shadow  of  death '  has  collected  itself, 
the  '  iron  '  gnawing  his  limb,  and  '  affliction '  preying 
upon  his  heart.  JSTow  the  divine  love  does  not 
simply  lighten  his  chain,  or  abridge  his  hours  of 
labour,  procure  him  some  compensation  for  his 
drudgery,  or  teach  him  a  song  to  gladden  his  cap- 
tivity. No ;  but  the  intervention  is  decisive,  and 
the  prisoner  is  fully  and  finally  liberated.  'He 
hath  broken  the  gates  of  brass,  and  cut  the  bars  of 
iron  in  sunder.' 


THE    LOVING-KINDNESS    OF   THE    LORD.  165 

Father,  in  the  case  of  the  invalid,  sick,  restless, 
and  to  all  appearance  about  to  die,  the  sympathy  of 
God  does  not  merely  grant  him  an  hour  of  respite, 
or  a  slight  amelioration,  a  calmer  pulse,  or  a  less 
feverish  brow — prolonged  life  with  broken  health. 
IN'o ;  but  it  restores  him,  and  so  restores  him  as  to 
leave  no  lingering  weakness,  no  remnant  of  his 
previous  malady.  ^  He  sent  his  word  and  healed 
them,  and  delivered  them  from  their  destructions.' 

Lastly,  there  are  the  mariners,  'that  go  down  to 
the  sea  in  ships.'  The  hurricane  sweeps  over  them, 
the  winds  rise  in  their  anger,  and  the  sea  rolls  in 
wild  disturbance ;  so  that  '  they  mount  up  to  the 
heavens,  they  go  again  to  the  depths.'  Kow,  the 
divine  watchfulness  does  not  content  itself  with 
abating  the  blast,  lowering  the  crest  of  the  billow, 
or  effecting  a  lull  in  the  tempest,  leaving  the  '  ship- 
men  '  still  at  the  mercy  of  the  elements  and  far  from 
the  spot  of  their  destination.  jSTo  ;  but  '  he  maketh 
the  storm  a  calm,  so  that  the  waves  thereof  are  still.' 
Nay  more.  Himself  pilots  the  vessel,  and  'so  He 
bringetli  them  unto  their  desired  haven.'  If  thus 
we  'observe  these  things'  as  the  Psalmist  instructs 
us,  we  sliall  learn  the  lesson,  that  His  kindness  is 
effectual  in  every  emergency.  The  same  perfection 
of  rescue  is  seen  in  our  salvation.  The  sinner  is  not 
let  alone  at  any  point  of  his  history,  but  is  at  length 
guided  to  gloiy.  He  gets,  not  an  occasional,  but  a 
full  forgiveness ;  and,  on  being  pardoned,  he  is  not 
then  left  to  find  the  means  of  his  sanctification,  but 
he  becomes,  by  divine  grace,  a  new  creature,  under- 


166  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

going,  not  a  partial,  but  a  total  renovation.  "Nor  is 
he  sanctified,  but  left  unprovided  with  sources  of 
happiness,  for  he  is  taken  up  to  complete  and  eter- 
nal enjoyment  in  heaven.  Why  should  not  we  in- 
voke His  kindness,  and  trust  in  it ;  and  why  should 
not  those  who  have  felt  it  to  be  so  effective  them- 
selves, or  seen  it  to  be  so  in  the  experience  of  others, 
— why  should  not  they  join  in  the  chorus,  '  Oh  that 
men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for 
his  wonderful  works  to  the  children  of  men !' 

II.  If  we  obey  the  Psalmist,  and  '  observe  these 
things,'  we  '  shall  understand  the  loving-kindness  of 
the  Lord'  to  be  seasonable  loving-kindness.  Let 
us  again  review  the  instances — 

The  wanderers  could  not  find  their  way.  It  was 
a  solitary  path  which  they  so  feebly  trod,  and  on 
which  they  so  often  stumbled.  They  were  fast  be- 
ing bewildered.  Their  stores  were  exhausted,  '  hun- 
gry and  thirsty  their  soul  fainted  in  them.'  'No 
wreath  of  smoke  hanging  in  the  air  indicated  a  hu- 
man habitation.  They  were  about  to  lie  down  on 
the  sand  and  die,  when  heaven  descended  to  their 
aid,  led  them  out  of  the  danger,  and  brought  them 
to  those  who  had  mourned  them  as  lost,  and  who 
were  filled  with  gladness  on  their  return. 

The  bondmen  could  not  achieve  their  emancipa- 
tion, and  the  fetter  only  cut  the  deeper  into  their 
flesh  with  every  effort  to  break  it  or  wrest  their  limb 
out  of  it.  They  could  not  dispel  the  '  shadow'  that 
lay  upon  them,  nor  win  their  way  back  to  freedom. 


THE    LOVINCr-KINDNESS    OF   THE    LORD.  167 

'They  fell  down,  and  there  was  none  to  help.* 
Their  heart  sank  under  their  suffering.  They  were 
preparing  themselves  for  the  prospect  of  a  hopeless 
bondage,  and  looked  for  release  only  in  that  world 
*  wdiere  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  where 
the  weary  are  at  rest,'  when  the  Divine  Liberator 
came  down  and  achieved  their  deliverance,  said  '  to 
the  prisoners,  go  forth  ;  and  to  them  that  sit  in  dark- 
ness, show  yourselves.' 

The  sick  and  suffering  patients  had  been  using 
every  remedy,  yet  were  '  nothing  bettered,  but  rather 
grew  worse'  —  'their  soul  abhorreth  all  manner  of 
meat,  and  they  draw  near  to  the  gates  of  death.* 
They  are  given  over  by  their  friends,  and  they  make 
up  their  minds  that  they  must  soon  die.  But  just 
as  they  turned  their  '  back  to  the  wall,  and  wept 
sore'  under  this  terrible  sensation,  the  great  Physi- 
cian visits  them,  lays  His  hand  on  them,  and  bids 
them  live.  The  malady  is  arrested  at  the  moment 
when  it  seemed  to  triumph,  and  they  are  rescued 
from  the  grave  as  they  were  at  the  point  of  falling 
into  it. 

The  sailors  were  on  the  tempestuous  deep,  and 
the  gale  still  grew  in  wildness  — '  the  sea  wrought, 
and  was  tempestuous.'  The  mast  was  strained,  the 
cordage  loosened,  and  the  canvas  torn  to  shivers. 
The  ship  had  been  '  lightened,'  but  was  still '  covered 
with  the  waves.'  ISiO  anchor  could  hold,  the  yawn- 
ing seams  could  not  be  kept  together  by  being  '  un- 
dergirded ;'  all  the  resources  of  their  nautical  craft 
had  failed,  and  their  *soul  is  melted  because  of 


168  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

trouble.'  But  when  they  could  do  no  more,  and 
'were  at  their  wit's  end,'  and  the  bark,  struck  by  a 
few  more  seas,  must  have  foundered,  then,  —  He 
who  'gathers  the  winds  in  his  iist,'  and  'measures 
the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand,'  looked  on 
them  in  pity,  dispersed  the  storm-cloud,  and  took 
the  vessel  safely  into  the  harbour. 

Thus  God  interferes  in  the  crisis,  and  waits  till  it 
come,  ere  He  show  His  pow^r  and  love.  Man  is 
allowed  to  feel  his  own  weakness,  and  feel  it  so 
thoroughly  as  to  be  convinced,  that  if  God  do  not 
save  him  he  must  perish.  He  is  suffered  to  make 
an  experiment  npon  human  help,  nay  is  allowed 
ample  time  to  make  a  series  of  experiments  upon 
it,  so  that  be  may  himself  come  to  the  conclusion, 
that  his  only  refuge  is  in  God.  And  when  this  con- 
clusion in  the  end  is  pressed  upon  him,  then  does 
God  step  in  to  his  rescue.  It  is  often  at  the  mo- 
ment of  sharpest  agony,  that  the  peace  of  God 
enters  the  beart;  it  is  at  the  point  when  sorrow 
comes  to  be  past  all  endurance,  that  'He  healeth 
the  broken  in  heart,  and  bindeth  up  their  wounds.' 
The  angel  of  the  Lord  did  not  retard  Abraham's 
journey  to  Moriah,  but  he  intercepted  the  patriarch's 
band  as  it  trembled  in  the  act  of  descent  with  the 
fatal  knife.  Isaac  lay  bound  on  the  altar,  ere  the 
rustling  of  the  ram  was  heard  in  the  thicket.  Thus 
man  learns  to  appreciate  God's  kindness,  for  it  is  so 
seasonable ;  and  thus  the  interference  of  God  is 
ever  at  the  best  time,  for  it  is  His  time.  And  surely 
it  becomes  ns  to  wait  for  it.     If  it  be  delayed,  it 


THE   LOVING-KINDNESS   OF   THE    LORD.  169 

may  be  to  try  our  faith ;  or  it  may  be  that  the  mo- 
ment of  our  preparation  to  receive  it  has  not  come 
round.  Some  lingering  remnant  of  self-reliance 
about  us  may  retard  the  arm  of  the  Lord.  '  It  is 
good  that  a  man  should  both  hope  and  quietly  wait 
for  the  salvation  of  the  Lord.'  The  apparent  delay 
is  explained  by  His  servant — '  That  he  might  humble 
thee,  and  that  he  might  prove  thee,  to  do  thee  good 
at  thy  latter  end.'  And  if,  when  the  hour  of  peril 
came,  His  loving-kindness  has  come  too — if  our  ex- 
tremity has  always  been  His  opportunity,  then 
should  we  raise  the  anthem  for  ourselves  —  for  all, 
'  Oh  that  men  w^ould  praise  the  Lord  for  his  good- 
ness, and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  children  of 
men.' 

HL  If  we  will  '  observe  these  things,'  w^e  *  shall 
understand  the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord'  to  be 
undeserved  loving-kindness.  For  it  is  manifested 
to  those  who  did  not  merit  it  —  to  those  who  had 
brought  themselves,  by  their  own  temerity  and  sin, 
into  danger  and  difficulty.  Let  us  again,  in  evidence 
of  this,  follow  the  Psalmist's  guidance,  and  *  ob- 
serve,' so  that  we  may  'understand.' 

First,  they  who  had  lost  their  road  in  the  desert 
should  not  have  been  there  at  all.  Why  did  they 
leave  the  common  haunts  of  life  and  expose  them- 
selves to  such  jeopardy  ?  Why  should  they  prefer 
the  '  solitary  way'  to  the  trodden  and  frequented 
one  ?  Why  did  they  leave  the  scenes  of  cultivation, 
or  the  green  banks  of  the  stream,  and  be  found  at 
15 


170  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

length  '  hungry  and  thirsty  V  The  motive  was  either 
restlessness  and  dissatisfaction,  or  a  mere  spirit  of 
adventure,  or  the  ambitious  desire  to  explore  new 
tracts,  or  farm  a  more  fertile  glebe,  or  found  a  new 
colon}^,  and  raise  a  new  city.  They  do  not  seem  to 
have  been  in  the  way  of  duty,  when  they  ran  the 
terrible  risk.  They  might  therefore  have  been  suf- 
fered to  faint  and  die;  and  their  bones,  bleached  in 
the  shower  and  breeze,  would  have  been  an  ominous 
warning  to  future  rovers  and  malcontents. 

In  the  second  instance  which  we  are  asked  to 
^  observe'  —  the  sin  is  expressly  stated  —  those  who 
'were  bound  in  affliction  and  iron,'  had  brought 
upon  themselves  such  a  penalty  :  '  Because  they  re- 
belled against  the  words  of  God,  and  contemned 
the  counsel  of  the  Most  High,  therefore  he  brought 
down  their  heart  with  sorrow.'  They  would  not 
serve  God,  and  therefore  they  are  forced  to  serve 
man.  They  would  not  serve  God  willingly,  and 
now  they  serve  man  by  compulsion.  They  would 
not  wear  His  'yoke,  which  is  easy,'  and  therefore 
they  were  shut  up  '  and  sit  in  darkness  and  in  the 
shadow  of  death.'  And  in  God's  righteous  judg- 
ment they  might  have  drooped  in  hopeless  captivity, 
and  have  found  no  freedom  but  in  death  ;  ^nd  these 
'  gates  of  brass'  might  have  opened  only  that  their 
corpses  might  be  carried  to  an  ignoble  sepulchre  — 
the  spot  where  'the  servant  is  free  from  his  master.' 

In  the  third  case,  those  bowed  down  by  disease 

-are  expressly  called  'fools,'  who,  'because  of  their 

transgressions,  and  because  of  their  iniquities,  are 


THE   LOVING-KINDNESS   OF   THE    LORD.  171 

afflicted.*  Their  own  folly  chastises  them,  and  they 
might,  as  they  well  deserved,  have  pined  and  died. 
They  had  no  claim  for  health,  and  they  might  have 
been  suiFered  to  feel  that  'the  wages  of  sin  is 
death.' 

The  mariners,  however,  are  described  as  those 
*that  do  business  in  great  waters.'  It  was  not  sin 
that  led  them  to  follow^  out  their  useful  and  exciting 
profession.  But  perhaps  their  error  is,  that  they 
forget  their  close  dependence  upon  God.  They 
tread  with  perfect  security  that  thin  and  frail  plank, 
which  is  the  only  partition  between  them  and  the 
devouring  billow.  They  trust  in  the  skill  of  their 
captain,  and  in  the  quick  eye  and  steady  hand  of 
their  helmsman,  but  omit  to  place  a  higher  confi- 
dence in  God.  So  often  have  they  ploughed  the 
deep — so  often  have  they  been  placed  with  only  sky 
above  and  sea  around,  that  the  sublime  scene  creates 
no  impression,  and  his  '  wonders  in  the  deep,'  seen 
so  frequently,  raise  no  feelings  of  amazement  or 
devotion.  They  look  on  the  glorious  mirror,  but 
they  recognise  not  the  Almighty's  form  glassing 
itself.  In  time  past,  when  '  the  Lord  sent  out  a 
great  wind,  and  there  was  a  mighty  tempest  in  the 
sea,  so  that  the  ship  was  like  to  be  broken,'  they 
had  found  that  their  pilot  did  weather  the  storm, 
and  they  looked  not  above  to  Him  who  sat  '  king 
upon  the  flood ;'  who  rode  in  the  whirlwind,  and  so 
controlled  the  blast,  that  '  the  sea  ceased  from  her 
raging.'  So  often  had  they  been  preserved,  so  firm 
had  been  the  '  tackling,'  so  accurate  the  *  soundings,' 


172  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

and  so  often  in  their  distress  had  they  ^  discovered 
a  creek  into  the  which  to  thrust  in  the  ship,'  that, 
when  again  '  the  sea  arose  by  reason  of  a  great  wind 
that  blew,'  they  still  had  reliance  on  themselves. 
And  they  are  therefore  punished  for  their  temerity 
and  self-confidence,  and  might  have  perished. 
'When  thou  didst  blow  with  thy  wind,'  they  might 
have  sunk  '  as  lead  in  the  mighty  waters,'  and  re- 
mained in  the  abyss  till  the  time  when  '  the  sea  shall 
give  up  its  dead.' 

Thus,  if  we  '  observe,'  we  shall  find  that  the  lov- 
ing-kindness of  the  Lord  is  always  undeserved.  It 
is  free  and  sovereign.  We  forget  Him,  but  He  does 
not  forget  us ;  and  when  our  sins  expose  us  to  immi- 
nent peril — and  that  peril  is  a  righteous  and  appro- 
priate punishment,  even  then  does  He  'make  no 
tarryiog,'  but  He  swiftly  comes  to  save  us.  Thus, 
'  when  we  were  without  strength,  Christ  died  for  the 
ungodly.'  Paul  was  racing  on  an  errand  of  blood 
when  the  divine  grace  laid  hold  on  him.  If,  then, 
we  have  no  claim  upon  Him,  and  yet  He  so  efifectu- 
ally  and  seasonably  aids  us,  will  we  not  respond, 
*  Oh  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his  good- 
ness, and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  children 
of  men !' 

IV.  If  we  are  wise,  and  will  'observe  these  things,' 
we  shall  'understand  the  loving-kindness  of  the 
Lord'  to  be  habitual  loving-kindness.  The  Psalmist 
does  not  mean  that  God  has  done  those  acts  of 
beneficent  intervention  once,  and  only  once ;   but 


THE   LOVING-KINDNESS   OF   THE   LORD.  173 

He  means  that  God  is  in  the  habit  of  doing  them. 
He  has  special  pleasure  in  doing  them.  He  often 
takes  the  wanderer  by  the  hand  and  leads  him,  often 
brings  liberty  to  the  captive,  often  heals  and  raises 
lip  the  sick,  and  often  quiets  the  foaming  surge. 
Had  He  shown  this  power  and  affection  but  once, 
had  *  these  things'  been  solitary  operations,  men 
would  hesitate  to  place  confidence  in  Him ;  might 
have  supposed  that  His  love  had  expired,  or  that 
His  power  was  exhausted.  Our  question  would 
have  been,  shall  such  loving-kindness  be  again  ex- 
hibited, and  to  us  ?  if  we  need  it,  shall  we  get  it  ? 
But  we  learn  that  it  is  God's  daily  and  customary 
work,  and  so  each  of  us  can  say,  'My  soul,  wait 
thou  only  upon  God ;  for  my  expectation  is  from 
him.'  He  has  often  vouchsafed  relief  to  others, 
and  will  He  not  to  thee  :  '  The  Lord's  hand  is  not 
shortened.'  Similar  is  His  loving-kindness  in  re- 
demption ;  for  He  '  daily  loadeth  us  with  benefits.' 
He  bestows  not  one  pardon,  but  myriads  of  them ; 
not  a  solitary  spiritual  impulse,  but  a  long  series  of 
them ;  not  n  single  deliverance,  but  a  succession  of 
them  ;  not  one  answer  to  prayer  without  a  second, 
but  a  host  of  them  beyond  memory  or  calculation : 
'  Many,  O  Lord  my  God,  are  thy  wonderful  works 
which  thou  hast  done,  and  thy  thoughts  which  are 
to  US-ward ;  they  cannot  be  reckoned  up  in  order  to 
thee ;  if  I  would  declare  and  speak  of  them,  they 
are  more  than  can  be  numbered.'  And  thus,  if  the 
Divine  Benefactor  never  wearies  in  blessing  us  ;  if 
we  partake  so  often,  and  as  often  are  warranted  still 
15  ^i= 


174  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

to  entertain  the  hope  that  we  may  and  shall  partake 
again,  will  we  not  express  our  own  gratitude,  and 
invoke  humanity  in  all  conditions  and  countries  to 
enter  into  the  same  exercise — '  Oh  that  men  would 
praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for  his  wonder- 
ful works  to  the  children  of  men.' 

Y.  If  we  take  pains  and  still  '  observe  these 
things,'  we  shall  find  *  these  things'  all  to  be  acts  of 
simultaneous  loving-kindness.  God  is  not  so  occu- 
]3ied  with  one  case  of  misery  as  to  overlook  the 
others.  All  these  deeds  of  loving'-kindness  may 
happen,  and  very  often  do  happen,  at  one  and  the 
same  time.  While  He  is  engaged  in  the  wilderness, 
He  is  not  so  wholly  absorbed  as  to  forget  that  He 
has  work  to  do  on  the  ocean.  When  He  descends 
*to  hear  the  groaning  of  the  prisoner,'  He  is  not  so 
wholly  engrossed  as  to  desert  the  bed  of  affliction. 
But  when  He  is  filling  the  hungry,  at  that  very  mo- 
ment He  is  gladdening  the  heart  of  the  sailor ;  when 
He  is  breaking  the  chain  of  the  captive,  He  is  at  the 
same  instant  quickening  and  restoring  the  invalid. 
His  loving-kindness  does  not  travel  in  narrow  tracks, 
but  it  is  ever  active  and  is  universally  difi"used.  It 
may  be  found  on  the  steppes  of  Tartary  at  the  same 
point  of  time  as  amidst  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic — 
equally  and  at  the  one  minute  among  the  icebergs 
of  the  ]3oles  and  the  torrid  plains  of  the  equator. 
He  is  everywhere  to  bless  and  save,  i^ever  do  His 
worshippers,  like  those  of  ancient  Baal,  need  to  cry 
to  Him  in  frenzy,  under  the  idea  that  *  He  sleepeth. 


THE    LOVING-KINDNESS    OF   THE    LORD.  175 

or  is  in  a  journey,'  or  is  otherwise  occupied.  Others 
may  be  receiving  assistance,  but  you  may  receive  it 
too.  Their  getting  does  not  prevent  you  from  get- 
ting. The  blessing  does  not  pass  you  as  it  goes  to 
them.  When  Sir  Philip  Sidney  was  about  to 
moisten  his  fevered  hps  on  the  battle-field,  and  be- 
held a  wounded  soldier  look  up  wistfully  at  the 
draught  of  water,  he  at  once  denied  himself,  and 
ordered  the  cup  to  be  handed  to  his  wounded  com- 
rade in  arms.  But  no  one  of  us  needs  so  to  deny 
himself,  for  his  reception  of  the  gift  is  no  stealthy 
anticipation  of  others,  nor  does  he  snatch  to  him- 
self what  might  be  divided  in  common  Avith  them. 
There  is  ever  ^  enough  and  to  spare.'  Why,  then, 
should  there  not  be  unbounded  confidence  in  God, 
in  whom  each  one  of  us,  be  he  where  he  may  or 
how  he  may,  lives,  moves,  and  has  his  being  ?  O 
let  us  rejoice  in  such  omnipresent  goodness,  and 
trust  in  it.  Let  us  ever  feel  that  God's  kindness  to 
others  does  not  shade  his  benignity  to  us  —  for  the 
desert  far  inland,  and  the  sea  in  its  remote  latitudes, 
the  dungeon  and  the  couch  of  suffering  may  be  all 
at  the  same  moment  the  scene  of  seasonable  and 
effective  intervention.  As  we  cannot  exile  our- 
selves from  His  presence,  or  pass  beyond  the  pale 
of  His  energy,  shall  we  not,  as  we  survey  His  un- 
bounded and  sleepless  munificence,  cry  out  in  the 
fulness  of  our  joy,  *  Oh  that  men  would  praise  the 
Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for  his  wonderful  works 
to  the  children  of  men  !' 


176  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

VI.  If  we  '  observe  these  things,'  yet  further  and 
finally,  we  '  shall  understand'  that  the  loving-kind- 
ness of  the  Lord  is  manifested  in  answer  to  prayer. 
When  they  Vvdio  had  lost  their  way  in  the  sandy 
waste,  '  wherein  were  fiery  serpents,  and  scorpions, 
and  drought,  where  there  was  no  water,'  found  the 
vanity  of  every  shift,  and  became  conscious  of  their 
own  utter  helplessness,  —  '  then  they  cried  unto  the 
Lord  in  their  trouble,  and  he  delivered  them  out  of 
their  distresses.'  They  who  had  been  loaded  with 
fetters,  and  guarded  by  '  bars  of  iron,'  were  so  con- 
vinced of  their  feebleness  and  of  their  desperate  con- 
dition, that  '  then  they  cried  unto  the  Lord,  and  he 
saved  them  out  of  their  distresses.'  The  sick  and 
sufiering,  ^to  whom  wearisome  days  and  nights 
were  appointed,'  as  they  lay  and  tossed  on  their 
couch,  feel  that  He  alone  could  befriend  them,  and 
then  ^  they  cry  unto  the  Lord  in  their  trouble,  and 
he  saveth  them  out  of  their  distresses.'  And  the 
mariners  also,  as  the  gloom  of  the  hurricane  closes 
on  them,  and  they  drift  wildly  before  it,  cast  them- 
selves on  the  divine  pilotage,  and  ^cry'  at  length 
'  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  bringeth  them  out  of  their 
distresses.'  In  all  these  instances  of  danger  they 
cry,  and  that  cry  is  heard.  '  His  ear  is  ever  open 
to  their  cry.'  The  ear  of  man  may  be  too  distant 
to  listen.  The  cry  of  the  wanderer  might  be  borne 
on  the  breeze,  and  its  echo  might  startle  the  beast 
that  roams  in  the  desert,  but  it  could  bring  no  re- 
lief. The  groan  of  the  slave  might  sink  to  the 
earth  where  he  lay  and  pined,  but  it  penetrated  not 


THE   LOVING-KINDNESS   OF   THE   LOUD.  177 

tlirongh  doors  and  walls,  and  his  tyrant  heard  it 
not.  The  moan  of  the  sick  man  miglit  lill  his  own 
chamber,  and  be  too  feeble  to  pass  beyond  it;  and 
the  shriek  of  the  mariner  miglit  be  lost  in  the  howl 
of  the  sl:orm  —  but  each  cry  came  up  before  God, 
and  brought  down  instantaneous,  appropriate,  and 
eftective  succour. 

*  Is  any  among  you  afflicted  ?  let  him  pray.'  Such 
prayer,  indeed  all  prayer,  is  the  instinctive  cry  for 
help.  It  is  not  a  daily  penance,  or  a  formal  repeti- 
tion, but  the  natural  outburst  of  a  spirit  yearning 
for  deliverance.  And  when  it  asks  for  Christ's  sake, 
it  is  assuredly  heard  and  answered:  ^  Out  of  the 
depths  have  I  cried  unto  thee,  0  Lord.  'Lord,  hear 
my  voice.'  The  spirit,  in  the  hour  of  its  weakness, 
looks  up  to  God,  and  He  blesses  and  saves.  O,  then, 
ask  and  wait ;  wrestle  and  triumph.  What  has  not 
God  done  in  answer  to  prayer — '  what  terrible  things 
in  righteousness  ?'  Human  entreaty  has  shut  up 
heaven,  and  has  again  opened  it.  At  the  voice  of 
a  man  the  sun  stood  still.  Prayer  has  sweetened 
the  bitter  fountain,  divided  the  sea,  and  stilled  its 
waves.  It  has  disbanded  armies,  and  prevented 
conflict ;  it  has  shortened  battle,  and  given  victory 
to  right.  It  has  conferred  temporal  abundance,  as 
in  the  case  of  Jabez ;  and  given  effect  to  medical 
appliances,  as  in  the  case  of  Hezekiah.  It  has 
quenched  the  mouth  of  lions,  and  opened  the  gates 
of  the  prison-house.  As  Jesus  prayed  by  the  river, 
the  dove  alighted  on  Him ;  and  as  He  prayed  on 
the  hill.  He  was  transfigured.     The  glory  of  God 


178  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

was  manifested  to  Moses  when  be  asked  it,  and  the 
grace  of  Christ  to  Paul  when  he  besought  it.  Kot 
a  moment  elapsed  between  the  petition  of  the  cruci- 
fied thief,  and  its  glorious  answer.  Ere  Daniel  con- 
cluded his  devotion,  the  celestial  messenger  stood  at 
his  side.  The  praying  church  brought  down  upon 
itself  the  Pentecostal  eftusion.  Will  we  not  be  en- 
couraged by  such  examples  to  '  look  up ;'  and  will 
not  this  be  the  experience  of  each  of  us :  'I  sought 
the  Lord,  and  he  heard  me,  and  delivered  me  from 
all  my  fears.  This  poor  man  cried,  and  the  Lord 
heard  him,  and  saved  him  out  of  all  his  troubles.' 
If  we  will  not  ask,  how  can  we  expect  to  enjoy?  and 
if  we  do  ask  and  get,  then  surelj'  may  we  not  sing, 
'  Oh  that  men  would  praise  the  Lord  for  his  good- 
ness, and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the  children 
,of  men  !' 

One  word  more :  if  we  observe  the  miscellaneous 
'  things  '  which  conclude  the  Psalm,  we  '  shall  under- 
stand the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord '  to  be  often 
startling  in  its  nature  and  results.  The  good  it  does 
is  amazing,  and  the  penalty  it  sends  is  confounding. 

On  the  one  hand  '  He  turneth  the  rivers  into  a 
wilderness,  and  water-springs  into  dry  ground ;'  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  '  He  turneth  the  wilderness  into 
a  standing  water,  and  dry  ground  into  water- 
springs.'  At  one  time  '  He  turneth  the  fruitful  land 
into  barrenness,  for  the  wickedness  of  them  that 
dwell  therein  ;'  and  at  another  time  He  converts  the 
desert  into  a  fertile  landscape,  '  and  there  He  maketh 
the  hungry  to  dwell,  that  they  may  prepare  a  city 


THE   LOVINtl-KINDNESS   OF   THE   LORD.  170 

for  habitation,  and  sow  the  fields,  and  plant  vine- 
yards which  may  yield  frnits  of  increase.'  At  one 
epoch  such  colonists  are  loyal  to  Ilim,  and  '  lie  bless- 
eth  them  also,  so  that  they  are  multiplied  greatly, 
and  lie  sufiereth  their  cattle  to  increase  ;'  and  at  an- 
other epoch,  *  again  '  when  they  forget  Him,  *  they 
are  minished  and  brought  low  through  oppression, 
affliction,  and  sorrow.'  Sometimes  He  sends  a  ter- 
rible revolution  which  convulses  society,  and  turns 
it  upside  down.  Then,  '  He  poureth  contempt  upon 
princes,  and  causeth  them  to  wander  in  the  wilder- 
ness where  there  is  no  way ;'  and  '  yet  setteth  he  the 
poor  on  high  from  affliction,  and  maketh  him 
families  like  a  flock.'  Such  acts  are  of  loving-kind- 
ness—  not  only  those  of  prosperity,  but  also  those 
of  adversity.  These  sudden  and  terrible  reverses 
are  meant  to  teach  and  humble — for  they  show  the 
justice  of  God,  exhibit  the  evil  of  sin,  and  induce 
man  to  forsake  it.  Therefore  adds  the  Psalmist, 
'  The  righteous  shall  see  it  and  rejoice,  and  all  ini- 
quity shall  stop  her  mouth.'  Such  a  history  says, 
'  unto  the  fools.  Deal  not  foolishly ;  and  to  the 
wicked.  Lift  not  up  the  horn,  lift  not  up  your  horn 
on  high  ;  speak  not  with  a  stiff  neck.  For  promo- 
tion Cometh  neither  from  the  east,  nor  from  the  west, 
nor  from  the  south.  But  God  is  judge  ;  he  putteth 
down  one,  and  setteth  up  another.' 

In  conclusion,  '  Whoso  is  wise,  and  will  observe 
these  things,  even  they  shall  understand  the  loving- 
kindness  of  the  Lord.'  We  have  endeavoured  to 
*  observe,'  and  we  trust  that  now  we  '  understand  the 


180  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

loviDg-kindness  of  tlie  Lord'  to  be  effectual,  season- 
able, undeserved,  habitual,  simultaneous,  and  exer- 
cised in  answer  to  prayer.  And  as  we  see  it  so  strik- 
ingly exemplified  in  the  wanderer,  the  slave,  the 
invalid,  and  the  mariner,  let  us  always  adore  it, 
and  ask  grace  to  enable  us  to  *  walk  as  the  children 
of  so  many  mercies.' 


SIN   AND    DOOM    OF   THE    LOVELESS.  181 


LECTURE  Vin. 


THE   SIN  AND   DOOM   OF  THE   LOVELESS. 
1  Cor.  XVI.  22. 

*  If  any  man  love  not  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  he  Anathema 
Maran-atha.' 

One  that  was  not  avrare  of  the  debasing  and  hard- 
ening nature  of  sin  might  think  it  very  improbable 
that  any  man  should  not  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Were  the  revelation  made  to  a  sinless  world,  that 
its  Creator  and  Preserver  was  about  to  pay  it  a  visit, 
would  it  not  be  so  thrilled  by  the  intelligence  as  to 
arouse  itself  and  bestir  its  mightiest  energies,  and 
'rejoice  before  the  Lord  ;  for  he  cometh  ;  for  he  com- 
eth  ?'  Would  it  not  be  forward  to  exhibit  its  love 
to  Him  in  prolonged  and  ardent  outbursts  of  loyalty ; 
and  if  its  affection  were  susceptible  of  increase, 
would  not  His  advent  be  the  epoch  and  means  of 
such  revival  ?  But  what  would  His  visit  do  to  such 
a  world  compared  with  what  His  descent  to  our 
earth  has  secured  for  us  ?  For  surely  if  this  world 
has  sinned,  and  guilt  lies  upon  it,  and  He  in  our 
nature  has  come,  not  to  see  it,  but  to  save  it ;  not  to 
16 


182  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

visit  it,  but  to  bear  away  its  curse  ;  if  lie  Las  walked 
in  it  and  taught  in  it,  wept  for  it  and  died  for  it, 
and  if  ascending  to  heaven  He  still  pleads  for  it, 
governs  it,  and  blesses  it, —  might  it  not  be  antici- 
pated that  men,  privileged  with  such  a  manifest- 
ation of  divine  love,  would  be  attracted  at  once  to 
the  Benefactor ;  willing  to  give  their  lives  for  Him 
who  had  given  His  for  them,  and  loving  him  with  a 
passion  which,  in  its  nobleness  and  ardour,  should 
be  the  image  and  reflection  of  His  own  ?  God  Him- 
self is  represented  as  under  the  influence  of  a  sim- 
ilar expectation  when  He  says,  in  resolving  to  send 
the  Only-begotten,  ^  Surely  they  will  reverence  my 
son.'  Ah !  but  the  world  has  been  indifferent  to 
its  Saviour-God — that  world  that  bore  His  cross  and 
contained  His  grave.  Alas  !  how  awfully  sin  has 
darkened  the  understanding  and  seared  and  per- 
verted the  heart.  Fallen  humanity  is  certainly  be- 
side itself;  for  passions,  sordid  and  worldly,  so  fill 
it  and  so  usurp  the  supremacy,  that  no  room  is  left 
for  love  to  Him  who  is  '  altogether  lovely.'  What 
need,  then,  to  repeat  and  enforce  the  startling  de- 
claration — '  If  any  man  love  not  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  let  him  be  Anathema  Maran-atha.' 

In  illustration  of  our  awful  theme,  let  us  then 
ask  — 

I.  Why  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  to  be  loved  ? 
There  is  no  doubt  that  love  to  Him  characterises 
the  church  of  the  l^ew  Testament,  and  throws  its 
fragrance  over  the  pages  of  inspiration.     It  was  the 


SIN   AND   DOOM    OF   THE   LOVELESS.  183 

pervading  emotion  of  earl 3^  times.  Every  bosom 
felt  it ;  every  life  was  hallowed  and  moulded  by  it. 
The  song  of  praise  rose  to  a  joyous  melody  under 
its  influence,  and  its  fervour  quailed  not  at  agony 
and  martyrdom.  The  memory  of  the  cross  was 
young  and  fresh,  and  faith  wrought  by  love.  That 
love  was  a  distinct  and  personal  attachment.  Chiist 
was  enshrined  in  the  soul,  and  lighted  it  up  with 
unquenchable  ardour.  He  was  indeed  represented 
on  earth  by  His  people  and  by  His  cause ;  but  espe- 
cially to  Himself  did  love  surge  upward  in  continu- 
ous and  irrepressible  tides. 

And  there  is  every  reason  that  it  should  still  be 
so.  For  this  love  is  a  rational  aflection.  It  is  based 
on  ample  grounds.  It  is  not  an  emotion  which 
springs  up,  none  can  tell  how  or  why.  It  is  no 
mysterious  instinct  that  acquires  a  sudden  and  won- 
drous predominance.  'Nor  is  it  any  caprice  or  fever- 
ish excitement.  It  rests  on  a  sure  foundation  —  on 
a  'tried  corner-stone.'  Such  aflection  toward  the 
Redeemer  has  been  sometimes  supposed  to  be  a 
species  of  dreamy  enthusiasm,  and  many  have  given 
countenance,  by  their  language  and  actions,  to  the 
unjust  supposition.  Mystics  have  in  their  fond 
fanaticism  applied  freely  to  the  Saviour  such  terms 
of  endearment  as  would  at  once  destroy  all  distance 
and  reverential  abasement,  and  impel  the  spirit  into 
a  presumptuous  familiarit}^  But  the  temperament 
of  this  love  will  be  always  that  of  profound  humility 
and  awe.     It  must  never  forget,  even  in  its  highest 


184  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

ecstacies,  what  it  was  once,  and  what,  by  the  grace 
of  God,  it  has  now  become. 

Our  love  to  Jesus  is  the  most  rational  of  feehngs, 
for  it  rests  on  a  knowledge  of  His  person  and  claims ; 
of  His  character  and  enterprise.  Is  He  not  'the 
chiefest  among  ten  thousand  ?'  As  a  man,  and  were 
He  not  more  than  man,  you  cannot  but  love  Him. 
'  Thou  art  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men.  Grace  has 
been  poured  into  thy  lips.'  For  Christ  was  truly 
perfect  —  the  only  perfect  being  that  the  world  has 
seen.  The  se^es  appear  to  divide  between  them  the 
elements  of  perfection,  and  a  perfect  man  or  a  per- 
fect woman  might  not  be  a  perfect  human  being. 
But  all  that  is  tender  and  graceful  in  woman,  and 
all  that  is  noble  and  robust  in  man,  met  together  in 
Jesus.  ]N"ature  is  never  prodigal  of  her  gifts.  Birds 
of  gay  plumage  have  no  song;  strength  is  denied  to 
creatures  endowed  with  swiftness.  Thus  it  is  often 
said,  and  with  justice,  that  as  one  man  is  generally 
distinguished  by  the  predominance  of  one  virtue,  or 
one  class  of  virtues,  and  another  man  by  the  ascen- 
dency of  a  different  kind  of  excellences,  so  the  union 
of  both  might  realise  perfection.  Had  the  peculiar 
gifts  of  John  and  Paul  been  blended,  the  result 
might  have  been  a  perfect  apostle.  Were  the  intre- 
pidity of  Luther,  the  tenderness  of  Melanchthon,  and 
the  calm  intellect  of  Calvin  combined  in  one  person, 
you  would  have  the  model  of  a  faultless  reformer. 
Had  Whitfield  possessed  AVesley's  tact  and  power  of 
management,  or  Weslej^  Whitfield's  restless  vigour 
and  burning  eloquence,  would  there  not  be  the  type 


SIN   AND    DOOM    OF   THE    LOVELESS.  185 

of  a  complete  evangelist  ?  Out  of  the  distinctive 
talents  and  ac(|uircmonts  of  Coke,  Bacon,  and  llale, 
might  be  evolved  the  ideal  of  a  finished  judge.  And 
would  not  he  be  a  paragon  of  statesmanship  who 
had  the  tongue  of  Chatham,  the  soul  of  Fox,  and 
the  shrewd  and  practical  energy  of  Peel  ?  But  Jesus 
was  distinguished  by  the  rarest  union  of  integrity 
and  goodness.  Every  grace  that  adorns  humanity 
was  in  Him,  and  in  Him  in  fulness  and  symmetry. 
'No  virtue  jostled  another  out  of  its  place.  None 
rose  into  extravagance — none  pined  in  feeble  re- 
striction. There  was  room  for  love  to  a  mother  in 
a  heart  filled  with  love  to  the  world.  He  felt  that 
He  was  dying  as  a  Son,  while  He  was  making 
atonement  as  a  Saviour.  His  patriotism  was  not 
absorbed  in  the  wide  sweep  of  His  philanthropy. 
What  amiability  in  His  character  —  what  meekness 
and  patience  in  the  midst  of  unparalleled  persecu- 
tion !  ISTo  frown  was  ever  upon  His  face,  and  no 
scorn  was  ever  upon  His  tongue ;  but  His  eye  was 
often  filled  with  tears,  and  His  bosom  overflowed 
with  sympathy,  and  His  lips  with  consolation.  His 
one  pursuit  was  the  good  of  men.  For  that,  by 
night  He  prayed,  and  by  day  He  laboured.  Oppo- 
sition did  not  deter  Him,  and  ingratitude  did  not 
sour  Him.  With  what  pains  and  patience  He  taught 
—  with  what  dignity  and  heroism  He  sufi:ered.  To 
attain  the  noblest  of  ends,  He  died  the  most  awful 
of  deaths.  He  lived  in  the  luxury  of  doing  good, 
and  expired  in  the  triumph  of  a  perfected  enterprise. 
There  was  no  step  for  self  No  unworthy  taint 
16  ^ 


186  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

soiled  His  purit}',  or  alloyed  His  merit.  He  realised 
the  end  of  humanity  —  the  glory  and  the  enjoyment 
of  God.  The  multitude  hungered,  and  He  fed 
them  ;  they  erred,  and  He  rebuked  them.  The  dis- 
ciple trembled  at  the  storm.  He  arose  and  rebuked 
it.  He  summoned  out  of  his  bier  the  young  man 
of  ]^ain,  and  v^hen  He  might  have  claimed  him  as 
a  follower  and  an  apostle,  He  gave  her  only  son 
back  to  his  mother.  Wine  was  exhausted  at  the 
marriage  feast,  and  not  to  expose  the  poverty  of  the 
newly-wedded  pair.  He  created  a  farther  supply. 
He  took  the  little  children  in  His  arms,  and  blessed 
them.  He  could  not  keep  the  weeping  mourner  in 
suspense,  but  said  unto  her — 'Mary.'  The  sisters 
of  Lazarus  sobbed  in  sorrow,  and  He  raised  their 
brother.  Peter  denied  Him  thrice,  and  thrice  He 
comforted  and  commissioned  the  penitent.  Judas 
saluted  Him  with  a  kiss,  and  in  the  blanduess  of 
His  sorrow  for  the  traitor  He  called  him  'Friend.' 
So  perfect  in  every  relation  of  life  —  so  wise  in 
speech,  and  so  pure  in  conduct — so  large  in  com- 
passion, and  intense  in  beneficence  —  so  replete 
with  everything  that  charms  into  attachment  and 
rapture.  He  was  the  incarnation  of  universal  loveli- 
ness. "We  repeat  it,  were  He  but  a  man,  who 
would  not  love  Him,  and  caress  His  memoiy,  as  an 
honour  to  His  species  —  a  man  standing  out  from 
all  other  men  in  spiritual  fascination  and  beauty  ? 
'As  the  apple  tree  among  the  trees  of  the  wood,  so 
is  my  beloved  among  the  sons'  —  of  deeper  verdure 
than  the  greenest  of  them,  and  of  richer  and  more 


SIN  AND  DOOM  OF  THE  LOVELESS.       187 

fragrant  blossom  than  any  of  its  blooming  com- 
panions. 

But  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  Christ's  humanity 
was  assumed  into  a  personal  union  with  a  higher 
nature.  It  was  neither  by  a  fate  which  He  could  not 
control,  nor  a  change  which  He  could  not  explain, 
that  the  Son  of  God  found  Himself  on  our  world. 
He  voluntarily  took  to  Himself  humanity,  and  it 
was  love  that  induced  Him  —  love  of  unspeakable 
fervour.  To  take  a  nature  so  low,  and  come  to  a 
world  so  distant ;  to  save  a  race  so  guilty  and  pol- 
luted, and  by  an  agony  so  awful,  was  the  efiect  of 
a  love  that  could  only  originate  and  dwell  in  the 
bosom  of  Jehovah.  The  God-man  did  not  surround 
Himself  with  majest}^  or  array  Himself  in  the  splen- 
dours of  heaven.  He  veiled  His  Deit}^  but  allowed 
it  to  be  felt  in  its  characteristic  beneficence. 

And  0  what  a  labour  He  accomplished !  He 
secured  for  us  the  best  of  boons  —  salvation.  He 
has  delivered  us  from  the  worst  of  evils,  and  brought 
ns  into  the  possession  of  supreme  and  eternal  good. 
1^0  other  gift  would  have  sufficed,  and  He  died  to 
procure  it.  '  He  loved  us,  and  gave  himself  for  us.' 
The  whole  enterprise  was  one  of  love  to  us.  And 
surely  if  we  apprehend  its  source  and  nature  aright, 
and  are  by  faith  participators  in  its  blessings,  then, 
as  we  cherish  its  memories,  and  revel  in  its  hopes, 
we  must  'love  Him,  because  He  first  loved  us.' 
Gratitude  will  surely  warm  into  love  at  the  view 
of  eternal  blessing.  If  we  feel  what  we  were,  and 
what  He,  at  such  expense,  has  made  us,  we  will  love 


188  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

Him.  Is  there  an}^  enthusiasm  in  loving  one  so 
worthy  of  our  affection  ?  Has  not  our  love  to 
Jesus  the  mightiest  of  arguments  to  rest  upon,  and 
the  noblest  of  reasons  to  ^  render'  for  itself — what 
He  is  in  Himself,  and  what  He  has  done  for  us. 
Such  love,  resting  upon  the  purest  conviction,  is 
totally  different  from  that  aesthetic  rapture  which, 
the  devotee  may  feel  as  he  gazes  upon  a  picture  of 
the  Virgin's  Son,  to  which  genius  has  given  either 
a  countenance  of  celestial  grandeur  and  beauty,  or 
one  expressive  of  the  deepest  anguish  and  sorrow. 
The  artist's  work  only  excites  the  imagination,  and 
ministers  but  to  the  taste,  and  its  impressions,  either 
of  awe  or  delight,  are  traceable  to  the  common  asso- 
ciations and  instinctive  sensibilities  of  our  nature, 
not  to  the  attachments  of  a  sanctified  heart.  The 
tear  may  start  as  one  gazes  on  such  a  wondrous 
effort  of  the  pencil  as  the  '  Man  of  Sorrows  wearing 
the  crown  of  thorns,'  and  the  spirit  may  thrill  under 
the  subduing  music  of  the  chaunt,  '  ^N'ow  there  stood 
by  the  cross  his  mother;'  and  yet  th^re  may  be 
absent  all  that  reliance  on  the  Saviour,  and  sincere 
appreciation  of  His  claims,  which  lead  men  to  love 
Him  with  soul  and  strength. 

In  a  word,  if  you  look  to  Him  as  your  Instructor, 
He  cannot  but  secure  your  attachment,  and  you 
will  love  Him  for  the  truth  He  teaches,  the  amount 
of  such  truth  He  has  taught,  and  the  spirit  in  which 
He  has  communicated  it.  Can  there  be  really  any 
bosom  so  callous  and  insensate  as  not  to  be  entranced 
with  the  vision  of  the  bleeding  Lamb  ?   ISTay,  though 


SIN   AND    DOOM    OF   TIIK    LOVELESS.  189 

He  has  gone  to  the  right  hand  of  the  Father,  and 
is  clothed  in  royal  dignity,  lie  is  not  merely  to  be 
revered  —  He  is  still  to  be  loved.  For  He  stands 
not  in  calm  and  stern  majesty,  so  far  from  you  and 
so  far  above  you  that  you  are  chilled  at  the  idea  of 
llis  elevation  and  distance ;  but  lie  is  yet  with  you 

—  identified  with  you,  sympathising  with  you,  keep- 
ing heaven  for  3'ou,  and  preparing  you  for  it.  Can 
you  then  refuse  to  love  Him  ?  You  have  not,  in- 
deed, seen  Him ;  you  know  not  the  colour  of  His 
complexion,  the  height  of  His  stature,  or  the  tones 
of  His  voice.     But  you  need  not  such  information 

—  you  have  His  portraiture  drawn  by  an  inspired 
pencil,  and  preserved  in  the  gospels.  It  is  a  perfect 
likeness.  And  as  you  gaze  upon  it  in  its  beauty 
and  charms,  and  feel  its  inquiring  eye  to  be  upon 
you  and  to  be  following  you,  will  you  not  look  up 
to  the  living  Jesus,  and  say  in  a  burst  of  sincerit}^ 
*  Lord,  thou  knowest  all  things ;  thou  knowest  that 
I  love  thee  !' 

II.  Let  ns  now  consider  how  Jesus  is  to  be  loved. 
If  our  creed  be,  there  is  none  like  Christ,  then  the 
lanjruacre  of  our  heart  w^ill  be  —  ^one  but  Christ! 
Had  He  common  claims.  He  might  be  worthy  of 
common  love.  Had  He  any  rival — were  there  any 
truth  but  His  that  could  enlighten,  or  any  blood 
but  His  that  could  sanctify,  or  any  power  but  His 
that  could  vanquish  sin  and  lift  the  sinner  to  glory, 
then  affection  toward  Him  might  be  either  endanger- 
ed or  divided.     But  His  claims  are  paramount,  and 


190  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

therefore  love  to  Him  must  not  only  be  ardent,  but 
supreme.  It  must  correspond  to  His  merits  and 
character,  rising  to  the  occasion,  and,  like  Aaron's 
rod,  swallowing  up  every  rival  emotion. 

ISJ'ow,  it  is  not  of  the  absence  of  love  in  the  church 
we  complain  so  much  as  of  its  lukewarmness.  It 
is  feeble,  cold,  and  lifeless — unworthy  of  Him  who 
is  the  brightness  of  His  Father's  glory.  That  senti- 
ment, so  dull  and  intermittent,  cannot  be  called 
love,  which  only  warms  towards  Christ  on  the  first 
day  of  the  week,  but  falls  into  oblivion  and  slumber 
on  the  other  six  dajs.  The  plant  could  not  main- 
tain its  life  by  the  enjoyment  of  air,  soil,  and  water 
once  a-week,  and  the  animal  would  drag  out  an  en- 
feebled existence  if  it  depended  on  a  similar  periodi- 
cal nutrition.  Xo ;  it  is  of  the  nature  of  love  to 
give  its  object  an  immediate  and  permanent  exist- 
ence in  the  heart.  It  keeps  it  enshrined  there.  It 
gives  it  a  continued  presence.  It  so  carries  it  about, 
and  so  delights  in  it,  that  it  lives  in  the  dream  by 
night,  and  the  reverie  by  day.  It  rises  unawares  to 
the  lips,  and  '  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart, 
the  mouth  speaketh.'  So  that  if  Christ  were  loved, 
His  image  would  ever  dwell  within  us;  and  were 
He,  as  He  ought  to  be,  loved  supremely,  that  image 
would  gather  in  upon  itself  our  deepest  attachment, 
and  exercise  an  undivided  sway  over  thought,  pur- 
pose, speech,  and  action.  The  ultimate  object  of 
every  thought,  the  one  centre  of  every  emotion,  and 
the  distinct  boundary  of  every  enterprise  would  be 
Christ.     There  may  be  other  emotions,  but  this  will 


SIN   AND   DOOM   OP  THE   LOVELESS.  191 

be  the  master-passion  —  ever  watchiog  itself,  and 
trembling  for  itself  with  '  a  godly  jealousy.'  There 
are  many  occasions  on  which  this  ardour  may  dis- 
play itself,  and  there  are  many  incentives  to  its  in- 
crease. You  live  among  men  to  whom  the  Saviour 
is  as  *  a  root  out  of  a  dry  ground,'  having  '  no  form 
nor  comeliness,'  and  no  beauty  why  He  should  be 
desired.  Will  their  callousness  reduce  the  tempera- 
ture of  your  love,  or  rather,  will  not  the  glow  of 
your  affection  radiate  into  the  chilliness  around  it, 
and  light  it  up  and  warm  it  ?  While  they  are  silent 
in  Ilis  praise,  will  you  too  have  '  a  dumb  devil ;'  or 
rather,  w^ill  not  your  tongue  be  loosened,  that  you 
may  openly  and  loudly  glorify  your  Redeemer  ? 

0  for  supremacy  to  this  christian  affection  !  IIow 
eagerly  it  ought  to  be  coveted,  and  how  earnestly  it 
ought  to  be  wrestled  for.  What  a  struggle  should 
be  made  to  '  see  the  King  in  his  beauty,'  and  to  be 
ravished  with  it.  And  then,  if  the  heart  were  filled 
with  this  sanctified  attachment,  what  competing 
emotion  would  find  an  entrance  ?  We  may  be  par- 
doned the  truism  if  we  add,  that  were  we  to  love 
Him  with  every  power,  no  faculty  would  be  chained 
and  paralysed  by  the  world.  Were  we  to  love  Him 
w^ith  every  feeling,  no  emotion  would  be  left  to  go 
out  toward  any  unworthy  rival.  Were  we  to  love 
Him  at  every  moment,  there  would  be  no  leisure 
for  any  ignoble  and  disgraceful  desire.,-^  The  su- 
premacy of  this  love  is  the  true  safeguard  against 
its  being  dissipated  and  frittered  down.  Let  it  roll 
through  your  bosom  in  genial  current ;  and  then, 


192  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

thougb  the  rock  may  impede  it,  its  seeming  stag- 
nation will  allow  it  only  to  gather  its  strength,  when 
it  shall  overleap  the  obstacle,  and  in  its  impetuosity 
dash  aside  every  barrier.  '  He  that  loveth  father  or 
mother  more  than  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me ;  and  he 
that  loveth  son  or  daughter  more  than  me,  is  not 
worthy  of  me.'  If  such  love  prevailed  —  such  love 
as  Jesus  is  entitled  to,  and  does  possess  among  the 
glorified  saints  —  what  a  scene  not  only  of  enjoy- 
ment but  of  hallowed  activity  the  church  of  Christ 
should  be  :  ^  He  that  hath  my  commandments,  and 
keepeth  them,  he  it  is  that  loveth  me ;  and  he  that 
loveth  me,  shall  be  loved  of  my  Father,  and  I  will 
love  him,  and  will  manifest  myself  nnto  him.' 
Again,  '  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words ; 
and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto 
him,  and  make  our  abode  wdth  him.' 

/  Do  not  I  love  Thee,  0  my  Lord  ? 

Behold  my  heart  and  see, 

And  turn  each  cursed  idol  out 

That  dares  to  rival  Thee. 

*  Thou  knoVst  I  love  Thee,  gracious  Lord ; 
But  0  I  long  to  soar 
Far  from  the  sphere  of  mortal  joys, 
And  learn  to  love  Thee  more.* 

III.  Let  US  now  consider  the  sin  and  danger  of  not 
loving  Christ.  The  duty  being  so  imperative,  its 
neglect  is  so  much  the  more  awful.  And  therefore 
a  very  solemn  form  of  phraseology  is  employed  — 
he  shall  be  Anathema  Maran-atha — accursed  when 


SIN   AND    DOOM    OF   THE   LOVELESS.  193 

our  Lord  comcth.  There  is  sin  of  peculiar  aggrava- 
tion in  not  loving  Christ. 

1.  It  implies  ignorance  of  his  person,  claims,  and 
work.  All  who  know  Ilim  cannot  but  love  Ilim. 
IS^ay,  the  more  they  know  Him,  the  more  does  their 
heart  burn  with  this  gracious  and  absorbing  affection. 

There  may,  indeed,  be  a  distant  recognition  of  Him 
as  a  historical  personage  without  any  attachment  to 
Him.  But  the  soul  that  so  views  Him  is  beyond  the 
sphere  of  His  enlivening  influence.  The  rays  of  the 
Sun  of  Righteousness  fall  not  with  such  obliquity 
as  to  warn  a  spirit  in  this  low  and  shrouded  position. 
Still,  every  one  who  knows,  in  his  own  experience, 
the  glory  and  riches  of  Christ,  and  whose  conscious- 
ness testifies  that '  virtue'  has  come  down  from  Him 
and  healed  his  soul,  is  induced  to  love  Him.  He 
does  not  need  to  be  argued  into  it.  It  is  not  under 
the  pressure  of  logic  that  he  is  forced  into  it.  It  rises 
spontaneously  within  him,  as  the  vital  glow  and 
accompaniment  of  his  knowledge  of  Christ.  To 
know  Him  is  to  love  Him,  for  such  knowledge  and 
love  co-exist  by  a  secret  and  constitutional  con- 
nexion, like  the  bloom  and  odour  of  the  flower. 
Where,  then,  there  is  no  love  to  Christ,  there  is  no 
genuine  knowledge  of  Him ;  and  surely  ignorance 
of  Him  must  bring  a  merited  anathema.  For  such 
ignorance  is  wdioily  inexcusable,  with  the  Bible 
before  it  and  the  cross  in  its  view.  Xot  to  love  Him 
because  the  soul  is  so  uninformed  as  not  to  know 
Him,  is  surely  to  pine  away  in  self-gathered  gloom 
—  a  gloom  which,  alas  !  is  congenial  with  the  dark- 

17 


194  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

ness  of  that  terrible  res^ion  where  mornino:  never 
breaks. 

2.  Again,  what  imbelief  is  implied  in  a  loveless 
heart.  It  is  by  faith  in  Him  that  salvation  is  enjoyed. 
Through  this  belief,  and  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  the 
soul  becomes  one  with  Him.  This  precious  and 
living  unity  manifests  itself  in  love.  Faith  worketh 
by  love.'  To  believe  Him  to  be  robed  in  loveliness 
of  character,  and  distinguished  above  all  for  loveli- 
ness in  action  —  to  believe  Him  possessed  of  a  love 
to  you  whose  fervour  shone  brightest  amidst  the 
darkness  of  death — a  love  which  still  surrounds  3^ou 
with  His  favour,  and  lavishes  upon  you  transcend- 
ent goodness  ;  so  to  believe  in  Him  must  be  to  love 
Him.  This  love  everywhere  adorns  '  the  faith  of 
God's  elect,'  and  everywhere  accompanies  it,  as 
verdure  and  freshness  attend  the  course  of  a  stream. 
But  if  absence  of  love  imply  absence  of  faith,  what 
a  curse  must  follow :  *  He  that  believeth  is  saved, 
but  he  that  believeth  not  is  condemned  already.' 
Severed  from  Christ,  the  soul  is  lost  for  ever.  Like 
a  lopt-ofF  branch,  it  can  have  no  circulation  of  life 
and  sap  from  the  root.  If  to  be  loveless  is  to  be 
faithless,  no  wonder  that  the  apostle  solemnly 
predicts  such  an  anathema  as  that  of  our  text — Our 
Lord  cometh.  And  the  spirit  devoid  of  love,  because 
devoid  of  saving  faith,  is  exiled  to  a  world  where  it 
shall  have  faith,  and  where  it  must  have  faith — where 
faith,  as  an  element  of  its  punishment,  shall  possess 
it  and  fill  it,  and  by  no  means  leave  it  —  not  belief 


SIN   AND    DOOM    OF   THE   LOVELESS.  195 

that  it  may  have  deliverance,  but  belief  that  it  might 
have  had  it,  in  the  period  of  grace  and  privilege  now 
past,  and  past  for  ever. 

3.  Besides,  how  unlike  God  is  a  soul  that  does  not 
love  Christ.  J^ow,  this  unlikeness  to  God  must  be 
positive  deformity  and  misery.  Every  unfallen 
creature  bears  the  divine  image  as  its  highest  style 
of  beauty.  That  the  Father  loves  the  Son,  the  very 
terms  of  relationship  do  certainly  imply.  He  has 
infinite  complacency  in  Him :  '  The  Father  lovetli 
the  Son,  and  giveth  all  things  into  his  hands.'  Xay, 
Jehovah  exclaims, '  Behold  my  Servant  whom  I  have 
chosen,  mine  elect  in  whom  my  soul  delighteth.* 
As  one  so  like  Himself,  the  Father  loves  Him.*  He, 
therefore,  who  does  not  love  Christ,  is  as  unlike  God 
as  he  possibly  can  be.  And,  if,  on  a  point  so  tender, 
he  is  so  unlike  God,  will  not  God  frown  upon  him 
and  punish  him  ?  Can  He  have  any  emotion  but 
that  of  resentment  toward  one  who  is  not  like- 
minded  and  like-hearted  with  Himself  toward  His 
Son  ?  It  is  also  doing  Himself  discredit,  not  to  be- 
lieve and  feel  what  He  has  said  concerning  the 
Beloved.  If  there  be  such  antipathy  in  a  human 
soul,  there  needs  no  formal  sentence  of  anathema  to 
be  pronounced  upon  it.  There  needs  to  be  no  in- 
quisition, no  summons,  no  trial,  no  reverberation  of 
thunder  from  the  throne.  Let  but  the  mind  retain 
this  special  element  of  dissimilarity  to  God — let  it 
persevere  in  this  indifference  to  Jesus,  and  it  of 
necessity  gathers   in   upon  itself  the  elements    of 

*  See  Discourse  VI. 


196  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

wretchedness,  brings  a  withering  gloom  over  all  its 
susceptibilities  of  happiness,  banishes  all  those 
emotions  which  elevate  and  dignify,  is  disappointed 
in  the  unworthy  and  unsatisfying  objects  of  its 
attachment,  loses  the  powder  of  appreciating  what  is 
noble,  or  of  being  flushed  and  regaled  by  what  is 
lovely ;  becomes,  in  short,  shrivelled  and  dead, 
capable  of  no  feeling  but  remorse,  and  of  no  excite- 
ment but  that  of  despair.  The  anathema  comes 
surely,  and  the  loveless  heart  w^oes  it  and  nurses  it. 
It  has  vitiated  all  its  spiritual  tastes,  and  it  punishes 
itself  in  its  own  depravity.  It  curses  itself,  and  under 
the  double  woe  it  shall  be,  and  must  be,  Anathema ; 
our  Lord  cometh. 

4.  And  the  curse  is  sure,  too,  from  the  fact,  that 
the  soul  which  does  not  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
has  no  preparation  for  heaven.  Heaven  is  a  region 
where  love  to  Jesus  predominates  —  w^here  it  glad- 
dens every  bosom,  and  gives  music  to  every  anthem. 
The  glorified  saints  are  freed  from  all  misconception 
and  numbness,  and  they  '  love  out  of  a  pure  heart 
fervently.'  The  ashes  have  been  removed,  and  the 
fl.ame  ascends  with  a  steady  brilliance.  As  the}-  re- 
member what  they  once  were,  so  guilty  and  pol- 
luted, and  by  what  a  miracle  of  grace  they  have 
been  recovered ;  as  they  think  how  Jesus  assumed 
their  nature,  died  for  them,  to  secure  that  pardon 
in  which  they  now  rejoice,  and  pleaded  for  that  per- 
fection in  which  they  now  are  clothed ;  and  as  they 
see  Him  arrayed  in  royal  splendour,  the  object  of 
vision  and  theme  of  song  to  enraptured  myriads, 


SIN   AND   DOOM    OF   THE    LOVELESS.  197 

can  they  refrain  from  joining  in  the  halleluiah? 
Their  happy  consciousness  finds  its  ajjpropriate 
ntterance  in  these  hymns  —  the  spirit  of  which  is 
love  to  the  Redeemer  —  for  such  song  is  but  the 
dialect  of  love.  But  the  unloving  mind  is  not 
allowed  to  join  in  these  warblings,  it  could  sing 
neither  '  with  the  spirit  nor  with  the  understanding.' 
It  has  not  caught  the  soul  of  the  melody,  for  none 
but  the  new  heart  can  sing  the  new  song.  It  would 
find  no  inducement  to  gaze  on  Christ,  and  none  to 
celebrate  His  majesty.  "Without  love  to  Him,  be- 
cause unconscious  of  any  salvation  from  Him,  it 
would  feel  no  reason  to  bless  Him.  These  praises 
-svould  ring  in  its  ears  as  unmeaning  and  distasteful 
sounds  —  and  it  would  remain  silent,  lonely,  sur- 
prised, and  sullen  amid  the  hymning  choirs.  But, 
alas !  there  is  no  neutral  world  where  it  can  subsist, 
and  snatch,  the  means  of  enjoyment ;  and  the  love- 
less spirit  must  therefore  be  doomed  away  to  that 
bleak  and  cheerless  prison,  filled  and  torn  with 
mutual  hostilities — that  hell  of  conflicting  passions, 
w^here,  amidst  a  thousand  batthng  rancours,  there 
reigns  over  all  an  intense  antipathy  to  God  and  to 
His  Son  Jesus  Christ. 

5.  And  the  curse  is  certain — Our  Lord  cometh. 
The  church  rejoices  in  that  motto,  but  it  is  the  terror 
of  the  wicked.  The  cloud  that  guided  Israel  con- 
sumed and  terrified  the  amazed  Egyptian.  There 
maybe  no  notice  of  this  loveless  state  on  earth,  and 
the  church  may  have  no  penalty  for  it.  But  'the 
Lord  comes,'  and  it  cannot  escape  unpunished.  As 
17* 


198  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

under  the  third  commandment,  though  profane 
swearing  may  meet  neither  mulct  nor  imprisonment, 
nor  any  form  of  civil  repression,  though  man  may 
be  unable  to  try  and  punish  it,  yet  '  the  Lord  will 
not  hold  him  guiltless  that  taketh  his  name  in  vain.' 
The  heart  that  loves  not  Christ,  though  it  may  pass 
unobserved  in  the  world,  and  may  even  secrete  itself 
in  the  church,  is  under  an  eye  which  never  slumbers, 
and  beneath  a  hand  which  never  fails  in  its  aim,  or 
misses  its  stroke.     Our  Lord  cometh. 

And  He  comes  for  the  very  purpose  of  making 
inquisition — of  ascertaining  who  have  responded  to 
His  love,  and  confided  in  His  atonement.  ISTor  can 
He  be  deceived.  N"©  one  can  evade  His  glance,  or 
pass  undetected  in  the  crowd.  His  eye,  as  it  looks 
upon  the  mass,  scans  every  individual  composing  it, 
and  looks  down  into  his  heart.  Nay,  the  heart  with- 
out love  will  at  once  discover  itself  by  its  tremor. 
The  presence  of  Jesus  will  throw  it  into  such  frenzy, 
as  "vvill  at  once  signalise  its  doom.  Kor  can  it 
escape.  Subterfuge  and  evasion  are  alike  impossi- 
ble. '  Though  they  dig  into  hell,  thence  shall  mine 
hand  take  them  ;  though  they  climb  up  to  heaven, 
thence  Avill  I  bring  them  down ;  and  though  they 
hide  themselves  on  the  top  of  Carmel,  I  will  search 
and  take  them  out  thence ;  and  though  they  be  hid 
from  my  sight  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  thence  will 
I  command  the  serpent  and  he  shall  bite  them.' 

But  not  only  does  the  awful  formula  certify  the 
curse,  it  also  embitters  it — Our  Lord  cometh.  O  it 
is  He  ^vhom  men  are  bound  to  love  as  Saviour  — 


SIN    AND    DOOM    OF   THE    LOVELESS.  199 

whose  grace  has  captivated  so  many  hearts  —  He 
whom  the  Father  loves,  and  who  is  enthroned  in 
the  bosom  of  the  unfallcn  and  the  redeemed  crea- 
tion— He  who  sought  their  aftection  and  did  every- 
thing to  win  it  in  His  blood  —  it  is  He  who  pro- 
nounces the  dread  anathema.  From  other  lips  it 
would  not  be  so  awful ;  but  surely  such  an  anathema 
from  the  lips  of  Love  must  arm  itself  with  a  burn- 
ing and  unbearable  terror.  Such  gleams  of  his  in- 
expressible loveliness  will  fall  upon  the  soul  as  He 
pronounces  its  fearful  sentence — that  it  will  bow  in 
helpless  agony  to  the  justice  of  its  doom,  and  will 
confess  with  a  shriek  of  sudden  horror  at  its  obtuse- 
ness  and  insensibility,  that  not  to  love  one  so  lovely 
deserves  the  full  weight  of  the  curse.     The  Lord 

HAS    COME. 

May  Gocl,  of  his  great  mercy,  deliver  us  all  from 
so  frightful  a  penalty  !  The  Lord  direct  our  hearts 
into  the  love  of  His  Son,  and  so  win  us  to  this  holy 
emotion,  that  we  shall  rejoice  in  His  coming,  and 
then  this  Maran-atha,  which  frightens  others,  shall 
be  the  pledge  of  our  dearest  hopes.  Amen,  and 
Amen. 


200  THE     DIVINE    LOVE. 


LECTUEE  IX 


THE  LOVE  OF  INVITATION  AND  REVIVAL. 

AN    EXPO  SITION. 

HosEA  xiv. 

'  O  Israel,  return  unio  the  Lord  thy  God ;  for  thou  hast  fallen  hy 
thine  iniquity.  Take  icitli  you  icords,  and  turn  to  the  Lord ;  say 
unto  him,  Take  away  all  iniquity,  and  7'eceive  us  graciously; 
so  will  ice  render  the  calves  of  our  lips.  Asshur  shall  not  save 
us :  we  icill  not  ride  upon  horses  ;  neither  tcill  we  say  any  more 
to  the  icork  of  our  hands.  Ye  are  our  gods  ;  for  in  thee  the  father- 
less findeth  mercy.  I  will  heal  their  backsliding.  Twill  love  them 
freely  ;  for  mine  anger  is  turned  away  from  them.  Iioill  be  as 
the  dew  unto  Israel  ;  he  shall  grow  as  the  lily,  and  cast  forth  his 
roots  as  Lebanon.  His  branches  shall  spread,  and  his  beauty 
shall  be  as  the  olive-tree,  and  his  smell  as  Lebanon.  They  that 
dwell  under  his  shadow  shall  return  ;  they  shall  revive  as  the 
corn,  and  grow  as  the  vine  ;  tlie  scent  thereof  shall  be  as  the  icine 
of  Lebanon.  Ephraim  shall  say,  What  have  I  to  do  any  more 
with  idols  f  I  have  heard  him,  and  observed  him  ;  I  am  like  a 
green  fir-tree  ;  from  me  is  thy  fruit  found.  Who  is  icise,  and 
he  shall  understand  these  things  ?  prudent,  and  he  shall  know 
them  ?  for  the  ivays  of  the  Lord  are  right,  and  the  just  shall 
walk  in  them  ;  but  the  transgressons  shall  fall  therein.' 

PART   I. 

THE  INVITATION  AND  WELCOME. 

Israel  or  Ephraim,  on  behalf  of  Avliich  Hosea 
prophesied,  was  the  national  name  of  the  ten  tribes 


THE    LOVE    OF   INVITATION.  201 

which  revolted  from   the  house  of  David  on   the 
accession  of  Ilehohoam,  and  chose  Jcrohoam,  the 
son  of  Xebat,  to  be  their  king.     Afraid  lest  his  sub- 
j^cts  should  be  seduced  from  their  new  allegiance 
by  frequent  journeys  to  the  capital  in  observance  of 
the  great  festivals —' lest  the  heart  of  the  people 
should  turn  again  to  its  lord'— the  crafty  monarch 
set   up   two   calves   as   objects  of  worship,  'made 
priests  of  the  lowest  of  the  people,  which  were  not 
of  the  tribe  of  Levi,'  and  caricatured  the  sacred  sea- 
sons of  Jerusalem.     To  this  source  may  be  traced 
the  rapid  degeneracy  of  the  people.    The  ties  of  law 
were  relaxed,  the  claims  of  rehgion  disregarded,  and 
the   express  commands   of  Jehovah   opposed   and 
nullified  by  the  idolatrous  policy  of  him  who  has 
been  branded  with  the  indelible  stigma  of  Jeroboam 
'who  did  sin,  and  who  made  Israel  to  sin.'     Peace 
and  prosperity  fled  the  land  of  revolt  and  schism  — 
faction  and  conspiracy  revelled  in  it  —  might  and 
murder  became  the  twin  sentinels  of  the  throne  —  a 
false  religion  begat  ferocity  and  sensuality,  and  the 
frown  of  Heaven  rested  on  the  fated  confederacy. 
Only  one  child  of  Jeroboam  came  to  the  grave,  and 
he  died  in  early  youth  —  the  rest  were  doomed  to 
the  dogs  and  birds.      Ilis  successor,  Kadab,  was 
assassinated  by  Baasha,  of  the  '  house  of  Issachar,' 
and  Elah,  the  son  of  Baasha,  fell  by  the  hands  of 
Zimri,    who   put   to    death   all    his    'kinsfolk   and 
friends.'     But  the  usurper  was  hated  by  the  people, 
and  after  a  brief  reign  of  a  few  days,  and  to  escape 
the  vengeance  of  Omri,  his  rival,  he  'burned  the 


202  THE   DIYIXE   LOVE. 

king's  house  over  liiiii  with  fire,  and  died.'  Omri 
enjoj-ed  no  peaceful  period,  for  half  the  people  ad- 
hered to  Tibni  the  son  of  Ginath ;  but  having  tri- 
umphed over  his  competitor,  he  '  did  worse  than  all 
that  were  before  him.'  His  son  and  successor,  Ahab, 
outdid  even  his  father  in  infamy,  '  sold  himself  to 
work  wickedness  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,'  and  died, 
in  his  ignoble  disguise,  on  the  fatal  field  of  Eamoth- 
gilead.  The  house  of  Aliab  was  extirpated  by  Jehu, 
wlio  yet  followed  the  nefarious  policy  of  Jeroboam. 
Foreign  nations  at  this  time  rose  in  opposition,  and 
'in  those  days  the  Lord  began  to  cut  Israel  short.' 
Jehoahaz  had  a  disgraceful  rei^n ;  but  Jehoash,  his 
son,  was  more  successful,  and  internal  prosperity 
was  restored  for  a  short  interval  under  the  second 
Jeroboam.  His  son,  Zachariah,  was  murdered  by 
Shallum,  and  Shallum's  usurpation  of  a  month  was 
ended  in  his  blood.  Menahem,  his  assassin,  bribed 
the  king  of  Assyria  with  the  extorted  wealth  of  the 
kingdom ;  and  his  son,  Pekahiah,  reigned  but  two 
years  when  he  was  killed  by  the  conspirator,  Pekah, 
who,  in  turn,  died  by  the  stroke  of  one  who  followed 
his  own  example — Hoshea  son  of  Elah.  He  soon 
became  the  vassal,  and  ultimately  the  prisoner  of 
Shalmaneser,  by  wdiom  Israel  was  depopulated  and 
laid  waste.  What  a  history  of  rapine,  misery,  and 
bloodshed  —  almost  without  a  parallel  among  the 
nations ! 

It  was  in  the  reign  of  Jeroboam  IL,  that  Hosea 
exercised  the  prophetic  function.  He  felt  that  the 
crisis  was  fast  approaching.     The  seer  already  saw^ 


Tlin    LOVE   OF   INVITATION.  203 

the  terrible  penalty  —  the  cantons  of  his  land  rav- 
ai^ed,  and  its  tribes  murdered  or  enslaved.  Already 
his  prophetic  ear  caught  tlie  tramp  of  accoutred 
squadrons,  and  the  piercing  shriek  of  hopeless 
misery,  ^o  wonder  that  his  soul  is  thrown  into 
that  turmoil  of  agony,  which  gives  his  oracles  their 
abrupt  and  awful  significance.  There  are  few 
menaced  judgments  couched  in  so  dreadful  lan- 
guage as  his,  and  few  promised  mercies  offered  in 
such  subduing  pathos.  The  tender  and  the  terrible 
are  shaded  off  into  each  other.  The  book  begins 
^vith  severe  expostulations.  The  blood  of  Jezreel  is 
to  be  avenged  on  the  house  of  Jehu,  and  national 
calamities  of  no  common  bitterness  are  announced. 
But  love  intervenes,  and  blessings  interrupt  the 
progress  of  the  curse,  or  become  the  happy  sequeL 
The  thunder  cloud  that  lightened  and  muttered,  is 
at  length  dissolved  in  a  shower  of  sunny  tears.  The 
whole  of  this  last  chapter  is  a  scene  of  love  —  love 
of  invitation  and  consequent  revival. 

Verse  1.  '  O  Israel,  return  unto  the  Lord  thy 
God.'  The  love  which  had  borne  so  long  with 
their  provocations,  bears  with  them  still.  It  is  un- 
willing to  leave  them ;  but  takes  a  last,  and  yet  a 
last  and  lingering  look,  ere  they  pass  out  of  its 
view.  It  is  so  loath  to  say  farewell,  that  it  will  yet 
argue  and  remonstrate,  take  them  by  the  hand  and 
look  through  their  eyes  into  their  hearts,  ere  it  give 
them  up  as  hopeless  and  irreclaimable.  *  0  Israel 
return.'  Thou  hast  wandered  far  and  long,  spurned, 
in  wanton  pride,  the  voice  that  would  have  wooed 


204  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

thee,  and  the  hand  that  would  have  led  thee  back, 
yet  thou  hast  another  offer  —  another  still — but  it 
may  be  a  last.  Forward,  there  is  certain  destruc- 
tion if  thou  perseverest ;  the  path  is  darker,  down- 
ward—  hellward:  'Thou  hast  fallen  by  thine  ini- 
quity.' Sin  is  both  separation  and  declension  —  it 
carries  the  soul  away  from  God,  and  the  depth  in- 
creases with  the  distance.  But  God  stoops  in  love 
to  the  lowest  aspect  of  it,  and  reaches  in  His  mercy 
to  the  farthest  point  of  it. 

The  whole  design  of  the  dispensation  of  grace  is 
to  invite  sinners  to  return  to  God.  This  is  its  press- 
ing offer,  its  central  injunction.  Were  its  doctrines 
and  histories,  its  invitations  and  warnings  combined, 
and  were  they  required  to  utter  in  one  short  word 
their  whole,  their  eternal  import,  that  one  word  would 
be  'return.'  Sinners  are  still  invited  to  return — • 
not  to  purify  themselves  that  God  may  love  them, 
or  to  present  any  merits  that  Christ  may  the  more 
readily  accept  them.  To  seek  and  enjoy  a  Saviour, 
it  is  enough  that  they  be  sinners  claiming  the  war- 
rant of  the  divine  promise.  Man  is  not  bidden  rise 
to  heaven,  because  with  Him  to  hear  is  to  will,  and 
to  will  is  to  accomplish.  For  the  offer  of  pardon 
pre-supposes  guilt,  and  the  promise  of  the. Spirit  im- 
plies inability.  The  poor  and  guilty  wanderer  is 
enjoined  to  come  back  —  and  the  command  con- 
tains the  assurance  that  he  will  be  welcomed. 

He  is  asked  to  '  return'  —  the  divine  love  is  con- 
tent with  nothing  less;  and  nothing  less,  and  no- 
thing else,  will  give  him  safety.     There  must  not 


THE    LOVE   OF   INVITATION.  205 

only  be  a  cessation  of  the  present  journey,  but  a 
definite  and  conclusive  retracement  of  the  steps. 
What  the  prophet  sighs  for,  and  what  His  God  so 
earnestly  commands,  is  not  the  mere 'inactive  terror 
of  proceeding  onwards  when  the  fiery  abyss  stretches 
to  the  view,  nor  the  attempt,  while  that  terror  lasts, 
to  breathe  a  hasty  vow  or  utter  a  disordered  prayer. 
Xo ;  what  the  divine  love  insists  on  is  a  decided  and 
complete  retreat,  such,  as  when  the  wanderer  turns 
his  back  to  the  danger  and  his  face  toward  God, 
with  a  radical  change  of  thought,  purpose,  and  pur- 
suit ;  when,  conscious  of  peril,  and  aware  of  only 
one  Refuge,  and  that  in  God,  he  eagerly  seeks  Ilim 
with  the  whole  heart.  '  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my 
Father,'  is  his  earnest  and  practical  resolution. 

And  the  injunction,  moreover,  is  peremptory — an 
instant  compliance  is  demanded,  and  an  instant 
acceptance  is  pledged.  The  God  of  infinite  love 
does  not  deliberate  whether  He  will  receive  sinners 
or  not.  There  is  in  Him  nothing  but  goodwill  to- 
ward men  ;  and,  in  spite  of  all  they  have  done,  they 
will  meet  with  no  frown  on  His  brow,  with  no  taunt 
from  His  lips,  if  they  will  only  return.  Alas  that 
men  should  trifle  with'  the  offers  of  reconciliation  — 
that  they  should  still  persist  in  wandering,  or  'halt 
between  two  opinions  !'  Even  while  the  conviction 
is  gathering  upon  them  that  return  to  God  can 
alone  make  them  happy,  do  they  still  preserve  their 
distance  from  Him.  A  more  convenient  season  is 
confidently  expected,  but  it  may  never  be  enjoyed. 
There  may  be  a  sudden  and  swift  departure.  Let 
18 


206  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

not  yoiitli  claim  a  few  more  years  of  thoughtless 
gaiety — and  then  ;  let  not  mercantile  pursuit  ask  a 
few  more  busy  seasons  and  profitable  sales  —  and 
then  ;  let  not  science  demand  further  leisure  for  its 
discoveries  and  its  fame  —  and  then  it  will  pause, 
and  give  itself  to  God.  Ah !  hell  is  paved  with 
good  intentions.  If  man  would  but  prosecute  his 
immediate  convictions,  and  at  once  act  on  them  — 
if  he  would  take  the  first  step  backward  to  God  as 
soon  as  persuaded  of  its  duty,  he  would  keep  him- 
self from  deep  anxiety  and  peril.  Did  not  the 
Psalmist  say,  '  I  thought  upon  my  ways,  and  turned 
my  feet  unto  thy  testimonies.  I  made  haste  and 
delayed  not  to  keep  thy  commandments?'  Our 
safety  is  in  instant  compliance,  for  the  next  step 
away  from  God  may  be  over  the  precipice,  followed 
by  a  plunge  into  the  vortex,  out  of  which  there  is 
no  rescue. 

But  let  no  one  say,  how  am  I  to  return  ?  The  love 
that  invites  you  has  paved  a  path  for  you.  You  are 
not  left  to  grope  your  way  in  uncertainty.  It  is  in- 
deed a  dismal  thino;  for  a  traveller  to  be  overtaken 
with  darkness.  He  casts  about  in  eager  anxiety, 
and  knows  not  whither  he  is  going  in  the  painful 
obscurit3\  Occasionally  he  stumbles  and  falls,  and, 
so  far  from  making  progress,  he  only  treads  round 
and  round  again  the  same  melancholy  circle.  The 
storm  begins  to  moan  in  the  distant  forest,  and  his 
blood  curdles  at  the  sudden  roar  and  rustle  of  a 
beast  of  prey.  The  owl  cleaves  the  air  so  close  to 
his  head,  that  the  flap  of  its  wing  startles  him.    The 


THE    LOVE    OF   INVITATION.  207 

Burf  of  a  hidden  lake  is  heard  beating  upon  its  bank, 
and  he  trembles  to  take  another  step  lest  he  fall  into 
it.  As  he  gazes  on  all  sides  a  bright  point  suddenly 
looks  up  into  his  eye  —  it  is  the  glare  of  a  crouching 
tiger.  But  as  he  waits  and  quakes,  the  clouds  begin 
to  part  above  him,  and  a  solitary  star  shines  out. 
How  his  spirit  rejoices  as  star  after  star  comes  into 
view,  and  the  bright  edge  of  the  moon  gradually 
shows  itself  out  of  the  rack  that  has  been  drifted  to 
the  eastern  horizon.  Such  has  been  man's  spiritual 
history.  Sin  involved  him  in  gloom,  and  the  early 
promises  at  length  twinkled  on  his  path.  The 
lunar  effulgence  of  the  Mosaic  economy  next  broke 
feebly  upon  him  ;  but  it  waned  and  faded  as  the  Sun 
of  Righteousness  arose  in  his  majesty.  'Now  the 
way  of  return  lies  in  day-light.  The  sinner  is  ac- 
cepted of  grace  and  for  the  merits  of  his  Saviour : 
'  I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life ;  no  man 
Cometh  unto  the  Father  but  by  me.' 

It  is  surely  needless  to  urge  on  sinners  any  pre- 
paratory exercises,  ere  they  return  to  God.  Jesus 
has  removed  every  barrier  in  their  path.  They  have 
but  to  return.  It  is  vain  for  any  one  of  them  to 
say,  I  am  not  worthy,  let  me  prepare,  or  give  me  a 
place  for  repentance,  ere  I  draw  nigh.  Is  not  this 
the  fallacy  of  attempting  to  cure,  that  3'ou  may 
safely  send  for  the  physician.  Such  a  plausible  re- 
formation is  a  deceitful  refuge,  for  it  tempts  its 
victim  to  stay  in  the  outer  court,  and  not  to  pass  the 
vail  and  lie  low  in  'the  holiest  of  all.'  The  injunc- 
tion is,  'Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,'  and  the 


208  THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 

promise  is,  ^thoii  sbalt  be  saved;'  and  to  enforce 
any  other  duty  is  just  as  foolish  and  preposterous 
as  if  Christ  had  commanded  Lazarus  to  step  forth 
from  the  tomb,  ere  himself  had  restored  the  princi- 
ple of  animation.  What  then  should  hinder  thy 
return  ?  Has  not  love  removed  every  obstacle  — 
assured  thee  of  welcome  —  given  its  ^angels  charge 
concerning  thee' — sustained  thee  by  its  promises 
when  thy  soul  was  apt  to  faint  because  of  the  way 
—  given  thee  'the  hidden  mamia' — opened  for  thee 
the  'strait  gate,'  and  enabled  thee  to  enter,  and 
secured  thee  against  the  overflow  of  the  waters  when 
thou  passest  through  them.  Return,  O  return, 
then  —  'The  Spirit  of  the  Bride  says.  Come.'  Re- 
fuse not  the  love  that  invites  thee,  the  Spirit  that 
wrestles  wath  thee,  and  the  Leader  who  beckons 
thee  onward  to  God  and  glory. 

The  invitation  to  Israel  is.  Return  to  the  'Lord 
thy  God.'  They  were  to  forsake  the  Egyptian  wor- 
ship of  the  calves  at  Bethel  and  Dan,  and  resort  to 
the  adoration  of  the  one  living  and  true  God.  Jeho- 
vah was  their  God,  and  to  Him  in  this  character 
they  were  to  return.  And  still  the  wanderer  is 
asked  back  to  his  God  —  his  God  in  covenant,  his 
God  in  Christ.  Jehovah  in  Himself  is  an  appalling 
vision  to  the  transgressor.  The  brightness  of  His 
glory  dazzles  and  oveq^owers,  and  the  guilty  spirit 
trembles,  shrinks  away,  and  would  hide  itself.  It  feels 
that  to  approach  would  be  death,  and  that  to  look  is 
to  court  destruction.  It  flees  from  the  intolerable 
vision.    But  to  thee,  O  sinner,  Jehovah  assumes,  in 


THE    LOVE    OF   INVITATION.  209 

His  earnestness,  the  aspect  and  character  of  'tliy 
God.'  Tie  robes  Himself  in  love,  and  His  royal  scat 
is  a  throne  of  grace.  As  in  the  vision  of  Ezekiel, 
the  glow  of  the  sapphire  is  tempered  by  the  green 
of  the  emerald.  The  wanderer  is  amazed  at  the 
softness  of  the  voice  which  invites  him.  He  beholds 
God  loving  him  and  sending  His  Son  to  die  for 
him.  He  wonders  at  the  fact,  and  seeing  the  ma- 
jesty of  God  dissolving  in  a  flood  of  tenderness  for 
him,  he  is  emboldened  to  approach,  and  as  he 
breathes  freely,  he  exclaims,  *My  Lord,  and  my 
God.' 

The  prophet  now  enforces  the  injunction  by  the 
true  and  terrible  rebuke,  '  Thou  hast  fallen  by  thine 
iniquity.'  Their  experience  echoed  the  appeal.  As 
a  portion  of  the  Hebrew  church,  they  had  fallen. 
To  them,  along  with  the  tribes  from  which  they 
had  separated,  had  been  'committed  the  oracles  of 
God.'  The  law  had  been  given  from  Sinai,  they 
had  been  freed  from  captivity,  and  brought  into  the 
promised  land  of  rest.  The  temple  had  been  built, 
the  hierarchy  consecrated,  and  the  altar  smoked 
with  the  morning  and  evening  sacrifice.  But,  alas ! 
how  soon  'the  gold  became  dim,  how  soon  the 
most  fine  gold  was  changed !'  The  ten  tribes  in 
particular  sadly  apostatised  —  ^  changed  the  truth 
of  God  into  a  lie,'  and  His  gloiy  into  an  'image 
made  like  to  four-footed  beasts.'  Baal  also  became 
the  rival  of  Jehovah,  and  in  the  dark  recesses  of 
their  groves  were  practised  the  impure  and  mur- 
derous rites  of  heathen  divinities.  As  a  State,  too, 
IS  - 


210  THE  DIVINE   LOVE. 

they  had  fallen.  They  had  in  earlier  times  held  a 
high  rank  among  eastern  kingdoms,  and  the  vic- 
torious arms  of  Da\dd  had  reached  '  from  the  sea  to 
the  river.'  The  land  of  milk  and  honey  had  been 
signalised  by  its  tranquillity.  The  mountains  brought 
peace,  and  the  little  hills  by  righteousness.  '  One 
chased  a  thousand,  and  two  put  ten  thousand  to 
flight.'  '  The  barns  were  filled  with  plenty,  and 
the  presses  burst  with  new  wine.'  The  dew  of 
Hermon  fell  in  profusion,  and  the  balm  of  Gilead 
ripened  in  luxuriance.  Ammon  and  Moab  bowed 
before  them,  Amalek  and  Philistia  licked  the  dust. 
The  skill  of  Tyre  and  the  gold  of  Ophir  built  and 
adorned  the  sacred  fane.  Sheba  and  Seba  presented 
gifts.  But  as  if  victory  had  always  been  awarded 
to  their  own  prowess,  as  if  civil  prosperity  had  been 
the  result  of  their  diplomacy  and  economic  skill, 
and  as  if  their  own  bow  and  sword  had  gotten 
them  the  triumph,  they  forgot  the  Lord  of  Hosts, 
wdiose  'right  hand'  and  'holy  arm'  had  achieved 
their  successes.  Proud,  luxurious,  and  discontented, 
they  became  a  prey  to  invasion  and  internal  com- 
motion, and  were  threatened  with  famine  and  pesti- 
lence. The  divine  complaint  is,  '  For  she  did  not 
know  that  I  gave  her  corn,  and  wine,  and  oil,  and 
multiplied  her  silver  and  gold,  which  they  prepared 
for  Baal.  Therefore  will  I  return,  and  take  away 
my  corn  in  the  time  thereof,  and  my  w^ine  in  the 
season  thereof,  and  will  recover  my  wool  and  my 
flax  ffiven  to  cover  her  nakedness.'  So  it  was  that 
nature  w^as  summoned  to  vengeance.      The  flock 


THE   LOVE   OF   INVITATION.  211 

was  cut  off  from  the  fold,  and  there  was  no  herd  in 
the  stall.  Lebanon  poured  down  the  ferocious  in- 
habitants of  its  dens.  Jordan  withheld  the  wonted 
fertility  of  its  stream.  The  heaven  hung  forth  its 
drapery  of  woe,  and  the  earth  drooped  beneath  the 
ominous  canopy.  What  grace  more  needed  than 
penitence,  for  — 

*  Our  woes 
Are  like  the  moon  reversed  —the  broad,  bright  disc 
Turned  heavenwards,  the  dark  side  toward  us ; 
Till  God,  in  His  great  mercy,  turn  them  round, 
And  roll  them,  with  a  wise  and  gentle  hand, 
Into  the  dim  horizon  of  the  past, 
To  bless  us  with  their  smile  of  tearful  lustre/ 

And  Israel  was  but  in  spirit  a  symbol  of  human- 
ity. Truly  man  has  fallen.  And  who  shall  gauge 
the  depth  of  his  descent,  or  compute  the  leagues  of 
his  moral  distance  from  God?  Measured  in  its 
effects,  it  exceeds  comprehension.  It  had  already 
changed  angels  into  devils,  and  prepared  for  them 
a  prison-house.  It  has  subjected  man,  and  the  crea- 
tion around  him,  to  groaning  and  travail,  doomed 
the  former  to  death,  and  the  latter  to  final  confla- 
gration. It  has  made  a  wreck  of  humanity,  and 
filled  it  with  the  elements  of  damage  and  disorder. 
There  is  no  perception  and  appreciation  of  spiritual 
truth,  no  confidence  in  God,  and  no  preparation  for 
futurity.  We  do  not  libel  humanity  —  we  say  not 
that  it  does  not  possess  and  exemplify  many  virtues. 
There  are    many  instances  of  integrity,  kindness, 


212  THE     DIVINE     LOVE. 

heroism,  and  philanthropy  —  warm  domestic  ties 
and  fihal  affections  —  sympathy  with  affliction,  and 
hberaUty  in  reheving  it.  ^or  are  all  equally  sin- 
ful ;  there  are  fairer  ruins  in  the  universal  fall.  But 
even  where  these  virtues  exist  apart  from  the  in- 
direct influence  of  Christianity,  and  where  they  are 
not  the  mere  promptings  of  animal  instinct,  still 
their  existence  is  no  proof  against  the  assertion  that 
man  has  fallen.  That  fall  consists  not  in  severing 
man  from  his  fellows,  but  in  severing  man  from 
God.  The  virtues  of  one  rebel  towards  his  brethren 
in  crime  are  no  compensation  for  the  want  of  fealty 
to  their  common  Sovereign. 

And  our  present  is  not  our  original  state ;  it  is 
the  loss  of  primeval  purity  and  communion.  Mys- 
terious hints  are  given  us  of  the  agency  of  superior 
beings  in  producing  that  spiritual  revolt  which  did 
so  debase  our  race,  that  while  the  first  man  w^as  a 
rebel,  the  second  man  was  a  murderer.  But  we 
know  not  how  these  beings  lost  their  purity,  how 
they  arrived  at  the  knowledge  of  this  new-peopled 
orb  and  discovered  its  locality,  how  long  time  inter- 
vened between  their  own  lapse  and  their  entrance 
into  Eden,  how  they  were  employed  in  the  interval, 
or  why  they  were  permitted  to  ply  our  first  parents 
with  their  wiles.  The  mode  of  the  fall  is  wrapt  in 
mystery,  but  the  fact  of  it  is  matter  of  sad  and  daily 
experience.  Therefore  the  gospel  comes  to  us  as  a 
system  of  remedy  and  restoration,  professing  to 
brins:  us  back  to  the  favour  and  image  of  God.  It 
edges  its  ofler  with  the  appeal,  ^  Thou  hast  fallen.' 


THE    LOVE   OF   INVITATION.  213 

And  its  return  is  a  spiritual  ascent.  For  if  man 
will  listen  to  divine  love,  and  lay  hold  of  the  remedy, 
not  only  will  he  be  forgiven,  but  he  will  be  elevated 
to  a  higher  than  his  first  position. 

It  would  have  been  a  work  of  great  mercy  to 
have  brought  us  back  to  our  first  condition,  to  have 
given  us  the  image,  and  introduced  us  to  the  abode 
of  the  first  Adam.     AVe  bear  *  the  image  of  the 
earthy'  in  his  second  and  fallen  condition,  and  it 
would  have  been  a  restoration  of  unspeakable  mag- 
nitude to  have  re-stamped  us  with  his  image  in  its 
first  and  perfect  form.     To  have  given  us  such  a 
soul  as  Adam's  when  it  loved  and  served  its  Master 
amid  the  bowers  of  Paradise ;  to  have  spread  the 
bounties  of  Eden    over   the  world,  eradicated  all 
traces  of  the  curse,  cleared  the  sky,  calmed  the 
waves,  refurnished  the  globe,  and  made  it  all  like 
the  warden  of  the  Lord  —  this  would  have  been  a 
restorative  enterprise  which  God  alone  could  ex- 
ecute, and  must  have  called  forth  a  song  of  happy 
and  unending  harmony.     But  the  ideal  of  God  and 
His  plan  is  higher.     The  love  that  has  opened  up 
the  path  of  return,  and  that  repeats  this  invitation, 
has  provided   a  most  glorious  destin3\     I^ot  only 
shall  the  returned  penitent  be  as  high  as  he  was, 
but  he  shall  be  indescribably  higher.     Man  was,  at 
his  best,  but  a  fiillible  creature  ;  now  he  is  confirmed 
in  holiness,  and  beyond  the  possibility  of  apostasy. 
The  serpent  found  his  way  into  the  garden,  but  he 
shrinks  from  intruding  into  glory.     Eden  was  on 
earth,  our  inheritance  is  in  the  skies.     It  had  one 


214  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

river  parting  into  four  streams,  but  tlie  river  of  life 
lias  ever  a  current  of  undiminished  volume.  Then 
man  was  expelled  lest  he  should  eat  of  the  tree  of 
life,  but  now  he  shall  have  free  access  to  it,  and  to 
the  shedding  of  its  monthly  fruits.  It  is  not  the 
image  of  the  first  Adam,  but  that  of  the  second,  to 
which  the  redeemed  sinner  is  to  be  conformed.  Is 
not  this  higher  enjoyment  than  we  lost,  nobler  hon- 
our than  we  forfeited?  That  love  which  restores 
the  fallen  is  not  stinted  in  its  blessings,  for  it  lifts 
earth  to  heaven.  What  eye  that  pictures  out  such 
a  vision  will  ever  withdraw  its  grateful  gaze  ;  what 
ear  that  listens  to  such  an  invitation  will  not  vibrate 
with  its  melody  !  Is  there  a  heart  that  will  not  re- 
spond in  the  words  ol  the  prophet,  '  Behold  we  come 
unto  thee,  for  thou  art  the  Lord  our  God  ?' 

Yerse  2.  '  Take  with  you  words,  and  turn  to  the 
Lord :  say  unto  him.  Take  away  all  iniquity,  and 
receive  us  graciously :  so  will  we  render  the  calves 
of  our  lips.'  As  the  returning  penitent  no  sooner 
feels  his  guilt  and  danger  than  he  craves  the  divine 
assistance,  and  as  his  lips,  unaccustomed  to  prayer, 
might  stammer  in  his  first  petition,  the  divine  love 
condescends  to  teach  him,  and  not  only  to  furnish 
him  with  ideas,  but  to  put  words  into  his  mouth. 
There  is  no  excuse — the  form  of  supplication  is  pro- 
vided. And  the  prayer  He  teaches  us,  is  surely  one 
which  He  will  readily  answer.  He  knows  what  is 
best  for  you,  and  He  tells  3^ou  to  ask  it,  and  how  to 
ask  it,  in  order  that  He  may  honour  Himself  in  con- 
ferring it. 


THE   LOVE   OF   INVITATION.  215 

*Take  with  you  words,  and  turn  to  the  Lord.' 
"Words — mere  words  are  wingless,  and  will  never 
rise  to  heaven  and  enter  into  the  ear  of  God.  But 
these  *  words'  are  symbols  of  thought;  and  the 
fervid  thought  suddenly  ancf  instinctively  throws 
itself  off  in  earnest  words.  '  Take  with  you  words, 
and  turn  to  the  Lord.'  To  pray  and  not  to  turn  is 
hollow  impiety;  and  to  attempt  to  turn  without 
prayer  is  gross  presumption.  He  who  feels  his  dan- 
ger shrieks  for  help  ;  so  that  the  accents  of  prayer 
are  the  first  symptoms  of  spiritual  life  —  the  first 
sounds  that  fall  from  the  lips  of  him  who  is  born 
again.  To  quench  all  doubts  in  the  mind  of  Ana- 
nias of  the  reality  of  Saul's  conversion,  it  was  said, 
as  an  argument  not  to  be  resisted,  'Behold  he 
prayeth.' 

'  Say  unto  him.'  Yes,  speak  to  Him  in  open- 
faced  confidence.  What  a  privilege  !  '  Say  unto 
him.'  Fill  His  ear  and  touch  His  heart  with  human 
language.  The  'words  '  of  faith  are  never  rejected. 
The  power  of  prayer  Kes  not  in  fluent  expression  or 
rich  language — in  chaste  tones  or  graceful  demean- 
our ;  these  are  not  the  odours  '  in  the  golden  vial 
full  of  prayers  of  all  saints.'  'As  a  man  thinketh 
in  his  heart,  so  is  he;'  so  that  these  words  to  be 
spoken  are  the  expression  of  emotions  already  felt. 
Insincerity  damages  many  a  prayer — words  from  the 
hps  are  not  words  from  the  heart.  The  heart  must 
be  in  an  agony  of  earnestness,  lifting  an  eager  and 
outstretched  hand  to  receive  the  blessing  and  to 
grasp  it  as  it  descends.     Surely  it  is   a  grievous 


216  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

mockery  to  approach  the  divine  throne  and  repeat 
the  form  of  prayer  from  mere  mechanical  habit ;  to 
utter  admiration  of  the  divine  character  we  have 
never  experienced  ;  to  present  confessions  which  we 
have  never  felt ;  to  ask  pardon  for  sins  we  have 
no  desire  to  abandon  ;  and  to  offer  petitions  for 
mercy  while  we  are  wilfully  braving  His  wrath  and 
scorning  His  indignation.  Is  not  such  profanity 
enough  to  provoke  Jehovah  to  pour  down  His  ven- 
geance in  fiery  ruin  on  our  heads,  and  mingle  our 
blood  with  our  sacrifice  ? 

The  prayer  here  taught  us  has  four  parts — the  pe- 
tition, the  THANKSGIVING,  the  disclaimer,  and  the 

ARGUMENT. 

And  the  petition, '  Take  away  all  iniquity,'  proves 
itself  to  be  divine  in  its  origin.  Brief  and  simple 
though  it  be,  it  manifests  its  source — that  it  'also 
cometh  forth  from  the  Lord  of  Hosts.'  Left  to 
themselves,  the  returning  suppliants  might  have  pre- 
sented a  very  different  supplication.  Would  they 
not  at  once  have  prayed  for  the  removal  of  judg- 
ment, and  the  revival  of  prosperity — that  God  of 
His  great  mercy  would  arrest  impending  calamity, 
divert  the  march  of  the  invader,  inspirit  their  troops 
in  the  day  of  battle,  clothe  their  pastures  with  flocks, 
and  cover  their  valleys  with  corn  ?  But  in  the  wise 
benignity  of  Him  who  dictates  the  prayer,  they  are 
directed  to  the  cause  of  disaster,  and  to  pray  for  its 
removal.  '  Take  away  all  iniquity;'  for  iniquity  is 
the  origin  of  all  suffering.  Too  often  do  sinners, 
when  overtaken  by  a  pricked  conscience,  a  shattered 


THE   LOVE    OF   INVITATION.  217 

constitution,  public  odium  or  detection,  or  swift  and 
sudden  penalty — too  often  do  they  then  pray  God, 
in  the  bitterness  of  their  spirit,  to  save  them  from 
ruin,  and  restore  them  to  health,  comfort,  and  safety. 
But  it  is  the  punishment  they  hate,  and  not  the  sin 
which  leads  to  it.  The  murderer  dreams  of  the 
gibbet,  the  halter,  the  executioner,  and  the  gaping 
multitude,  and  wakes  in  a  sweat  of  agony;  but  he 
does  not  lift  his  heart's  desire  from  violence  and 
blood.  What  transgressor  is  there  who  does  not 
abjure  the  chains  and  darkness  of  hell,  and  would 
not  shudder  as  he  gazed  upon  that  lake,  each  wave 
of  which  breaks  upon  a  living  shore  ?  Let  it  be  ini- 
quity itself  which  you  seek  to  remove  ;  for,  it  being 
taken  out  of  the  w^ay,  all  saving  results  will  follow. 
The  divine  love,  which  has  taught  you  this  cry,  has 
made  ample  provision  for  listening  to  it,  and  grant- 
ing your  request,  for  *  in  Him  we  have  redemption 
through  his  blood,  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  according 
to  the  riches  of  his  grace.' 

Besides,  the  prayer,  in  another  of  its  features, 
shows  that  it  is  not  the  spontaneous  production  of 
fallen  humanity.  Their  own  desires,  if  indeed  they 
had  referred  to  the  removal  of  iniquity  at  all,  would 
have  pointed  to  sins  which  they  might  easily  aban- 
don, or  those  which  certainly  involved  them  in  open 
and  alarming  ruin.  But  lie  who  knew  their  frame 
instructs  them  to  pray  for  the  removal,  not  of  this 
or  that,  but  of  *  all  iniquity ;'  not  of  such  sins  as 
brand  us  in  the  world,  or  eject  us  from  the  church 
which  fashion  condemns  or  interest  forbids ;  but  of 
19 


218  THE   DIVINE  LOVE. 

all  sins  —  those,  too,  wliicli  no  eye  can  detect,  and 
no  human  statute  can  reach,  which  lurk  in  the  re- 
cesses of  the  heart,  and  are  gratified  in  secret  se- 
curity. ISTay,  secret  sins  are  specially  included  — 
those  which  we  are  so  apt  to  indulge — which  grow 
with  our  growth,  and  strengthen  with  our  strength 
—  form  temptations  out  of  every  occurrence,  and 
gather  hardihood  from  every  indulgence.  For  if 
any  sin  claim  and  wield  the  mastery,  if  we  pray  for 
the  removal  of  all  but  it,  ay,  and  loathe  and  aban- 
don all  but  it,  still  our  relation  of  enmity  to  God  re- 
mains unchanged.  '  He  that  offendeth  in  one  point 
is  guilty  of  all,'  inasmuch  as  the  spirit  of  insubor- 
dination reigns  within  him,  and  needs  but  oppor- 
tunity for  committing  grosser  outrage.  The  man 
possessed  by  one  foul  spirit  was  as  really  the  slave 
of  Satan  as  he  who  named  and  numbered  a  legion. 
The  pardon  of  Christ  respects  every  transgression, 
and  the  operation  of  His  Spirit  extends  to  all  im- 
purity. 0  pray  then,  we  entreat  you,  pray  to  God 
for  the  removal  of  all  iniquity,  without  exception, 
and  without  reservation,  for  all  is  hateful  to  God, 
and  equally  hurtful  to  yourselves. 

And  Jehovah  directs  them  to  look  to  Himself, 
and  ask  Him  to  '  take  away  all  iniquity.'  He  alone 
can  do  it,  and  He  is  willing  to  do  it.  He  invites 
the  desire,  and  He  will  fulfil  it.  In  His  love  He 
tells  you  where  to  apply,  and  in  what  words  to  make 
the  application.  Will  not  you,  so  equipped  by  Him- 
self, look  up  to  Him  with  confidence  and  say  unto 
Him,  *  Take  away  all  iniquity  V    Do  not  try  it  your- 


THE   LOVE   OF   INVITATION.  219 

selves,  the  attempt  will  only  convince  you  of  your 
folly  and  add  to  your  agony.  But,  sensible  that 
you  cannot  cleanse  yourselves,  that  you  have  no 
sacrifice  to  present,  and  that  no  punishment  which 
you  can  suffer  will  be  an  equivalent  satisfaction, 
look  up  to  God  and  cry  to  Ilim  for  help,  and  He 
will  hear  the  request  which  His  own  Spirit  has 
prompted,  when  presented  in  the  language  which 
His  own  love  has  furnished.  Man  must  be  led  to 
renounce  all  self-reliance,  either  to  obey  the  law  he 
has  violated,  or  merit  the  salvation  he  is  in  quest 
of,  to  avert  the  wrath  he  has  incurred,  or  elevate 
himself  to  that  dignity  and  felicity  which  he  covets 
as  the  end  and  gloiy  of  his  existence. 

The  second  part  of  the  prayer  is,  *  Receive  us 
graciously ;'  or  as  in  the  margin,  *  give  good.'  The 
order  of  the  petitions  is  to  be  adverted  to.  Sin  is 
pardoned,  ere  any  spiritual  good  can  be  enjoyed. 
The  '  good'  prayed  for  as  the  result  of  the  removal 
of  iniquity  is  incalculable — the  indwelling  of  God's 
Spirit,  peace  of  soul,  adoption  into  His  family,  as- 
similation to  His  image,  and  assurance  of  His  love. 
But  the  sinner's  relation  to  God  must  be  changed 
ere  his  nature  be  renovated,  and  pardon  and  purifi- 
cation are  inseparably  connected.  This  good  is 
highest  good  —  spiritual  in  its  essence,  and  perma- 
nent in  its  results,  fitting  in  to  our  moral  nature, 
creating  present  satisfaction  and  the  hope  of  ampler 
possession.  '  The  Lord  shall  give  that  which  is 
good.'  Knowing  w^hat  is  good  for  us.  He  gives  it 
as  it  seemeth  good  to  Him ;  at  His  own  time,  which 


220  THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 

is  the  best  time ;  and  in  His  own  way,  which  is  the 
best  way.  The  heart  is  ever  to  be  aspiring  to  it, 
ever  asking  it  and  asking  more  of  it,  till,  grace  upon 
grace  being  lavished  upon  it,  it  reaches  perfection. 
What  was  the  '  chief  good,'  was  a  vexed  question 
in  the  ancient  schools  of  philosophy.  Some  placed 
it  in  one  thing,  and  some  in  another ;  some  in  plea- 
sure, and  some  in  progress ;  some  in  contemplative 
leisure,  and  others  in  intellectual  superiority.  It 
was  onty  one  phase  of  good  which  they  saw  when 
they  caught  a  momentary  and  sudden  glimpse  of  it. 
They  knew  not  the  appetences  of  their  own  spiritual 
nature,  nor  could  they  rise  to  the  height  of  their 
destiny.  They  neither  understood  nor  relished  this 
purest  good — which  is  at  once  the  beautiful  and  the 
true.  As  then  we  merit  so  much  evil,  and  are  so 
devoid  of  good;  nay,  as  so  much  evil  lodges  in  us, 
presses  so  heavily  upon  us,  and  reigns  so  malignantly 
around  us,  ought  it  not  to  be  our  eager  and  inces- 
sant cry,  '  Give  good.' 

^or  must  it  be  thought  that  this  '  good'  is  given 
always  in  a  form  to  be  at  once  enjoyed.  "What  is 
good  for  a  saint  God  will  send,  but  '  God  is  judge.' 
What  the  saint  reckons  good  for  himself  may  be 
ultimately  destructive  of  his  comfort.  .  What  is 
good  for  him  may  be  affliction,  and  it  is  '  not  joy- 
ous but  grievous.'  Or  it  may  be  a  battle,  and  he 
does  not  relish  it ;  a  time  of  trial,  and  he  does  not 
like  it.  Yet  he  has  really  gotten  what  was  good  for 
him.  Or  he  may  ask  a  deeper  penitence,  but  be- 
cause he  might  be  *  swallowed  up  of  over  much 


THE  LOVE   OF   INVITATION.  221 

sorrow,'  God  ma}^  vonclisafe  him  a  gracious  sense 
of  His  presence.  He  may  long  and  pray  for  a 
fuller  assurance,  but  lest  he  should  be  betrayed  into 
high-mindedness,  he  is  thrown  back  into  the  billows, 
and  must  anew  maintain  the  conflict.  He  may 
earnestly  long  for  this  good,  and  he  may  wonder 
why  the  gift  is  deferred.  But  '  the  times  and  the 
seasons'  are  God's  prerogative.  And  this  postpone- 
ment makes  him  pant  more  earnestly  after  the  gift, 
and  value  it  more  highly  when  it  does  descend  upon 
him. 

After  prayer  comes  praise  —  'So  will  we  render 
the  calves  of  our  lips ;'  or,  as  the  apostle  quotes, 
'the  fruit  of  our  lips,  giving  thanks  unto  his  name.' 
Is  there  any  wonder?  'So  will  we  render.'  So; 
that  is,  our  prayer  being  granted.  And  well  might 
they.  If  they  did  not  offer  praise,  they  did  not 
merit  the  blessings  which  they  asked.  The  Divine 
Love  shows  them  how  God  is  pleased  with  praise, 
how  welcome  to  Him  is  a  grateful  heart.  It  was  a 
merited  rebuke  of  our  Lord  in  the  case  of  the 
healed  lepers,  'Were  there  not  ten  cleansed?  but 
where  are  the  nine  ?  There  are  not  found  that  re- 
turned to  give  glory  to  God,  save  this  stranger.' 
And  if  this  prayer,  brief  but  comprehensive,  has 
been  heard  —  if  its  blessings,  so  rich  and  varied, 
have  been  conferred  —  if  sin  has  been  pardoned, 
and  its  power  laid  low  —  if  good,  in  all  its  germs, 
has  been  given  —  if  such  a  change  has  taken  place 
as  frees  from  condemnation,  brings  into  acceptance, 
creates  a  glowing  holiness,  and  guarantees  linal  per- 
19* 


9901 


THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 


fection  —  then  indeed  the  spirit  so  richly  laden  can- 
not bat  express  its  gratitude,  and  give  relief  to  its 
sensations  in  song.  If  it  has  been  forgiven  much, 
it  will  love  much,  and  bless  much.  For  praise  as 
naturally  follows  the  pardon  of  sin  as  prayer  does 
the  conviction  of  guilt.  The  soul  melts  with  the 
thought  of  its  deliverance,  and  naturally  bursts  into 
praise,  and  often  into  melody.  Its  very  passion 
seems  to  mould  its  words  into  harmony,  and  lend  a 
music  to  its  song.  '  Praise  ye  the  Lord :  for  it  is 
good  to  sing  praises  unto  our  God ;  for  it  is  plea- 
sant; and  praise  is  comely.'  None  can  so  praise 
but  those  who  have  prayed.  The  empty  heart  can 
have  no  cause.  '  So  —  we  will  render  the  calves  of 
our  lips.' 

But  the  lips  can  produce  no  melody,  if  the  heart 
does  not  beat  in  unison.  It  is  neither  the  beauty, 
nor  the  rapidity,  nor  the  grace,  nor  the  solemnity 
of  execution  that  gives  praise  its .  acceptance  with 
God.  Let  there  be  a  spirit  of  genuine  humility  and 
dependence,  with  a  true  knowledge  of  self  and  its 
relation  to  the  God  against  whom  it  has  sinned  so 
grievously,  and  by  whose  love  it  has  been  saved  so 
graciously;  let  there  be  a  true  recognition  of  its 
utter  helplessness,  and  of  the  magnitude  of  its  spi- 
ritual gifts  —  God  the  one  giver,  and  His  fervid  and 
spontaneous  love  the  one  source — and  it  cannot  but 
pour  itself  out  in  loud  and  joyous  minstrelsy:  la- 
menting, all  the  while,  that  its  emotions  are  so  lan- 
guid, its  words  so  dull,  and  its  strains  so  tame  and 
unproportioned  to  the  mighty  theme.     'Praise  ye 


THE    LOVE    OF   INVITATION.  223 

the  Lord.  Praise  tlie  Lord,  O  my  soul.  While  I 
live  will  I  praise  the  Lord  ;  I  will  sing  praises  unto 
my  God  while  I  have  any  being.'  'Nnj,  in  the  midst 
of  so  much  to  humble  us,  there  is  sometimes  a  plain- 
tive melody  and  the  tune  is  set  to  a  minor  key. 
But  how  frequently  the  note  changes  from  that  of 
sorrow  to  gladness,  as  in  the  experience  of  the  sweet 
singer  of  Israel,  who  seems  often  lifted  out  of  the 
depth  of  his  meanings,  and  carried  on  seraph's  wings 
to  the  midst  of  the  choirs  before  the  throne.  0  why 
should  not  praise  be  on  every  lip  which  might  have 
borne  npon  it  the  howl  of  despair?  —  why  should 
not  an  anthem  be  on  every  tongue  that  might,  but 
for  the  intervention  of  Divine  love,  have  been  crav- 
ing a  drop  of  water  from  a  finger's  tip  to  fall  upon 
it  ?  If  we  call  our  walls  '  salvation,'  we  must  name 
our  gates  Upraise.'  'Rejoice  in  the  Lord,  O  ye 
righteous ;  for  praise  is  comely  for  the  upright. 
Praise  the  Lord  w^ith  harp ;  sing  unto  him  with  the 
psaltery  and  an  instrument  of  ten  strings.  Sing 
unto  him  a  new  song,  play  skilfully  with  a  loud 
noise ;  for  the  word  of  the  Lord  is  right ;  and  all 
his  works  are  done  in  truth.'  And  when  all  ill  shall 
have  been  surmounted,  and  the  bliss  of  final  purity 
shall  have  been  enjoyed — when  good  commensu- 
rate with  our  desires  shall  have  been  conferred,  and 
iniquity  shall  be  a  theme  of  memory,  and  the  chief 
mention  of  it  in  songs  of  deliverance  from  it — then, 
indeed,  shall  the  family  of  the  redeemed  soar  into 
its  noblo!^t  raptures,  and  raise  its  psalm  of  victory — 


224  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

'  Louder  than  the  thunder's  roar, 
Or  the  fulness  of  the  sea, 
"When  it  breaks  upon  the  shore.' 

Verse  3.  'Asshur  shall  not  save  us ;  we  will  not 
ride  upon  horses ;  neither  will  we  say  any  more  to 
the  work  of  our  hands,  Ye  are  our  gods :  for  in 
thee  the  fatherless  findeth  mercy.'  In  turning  the 
penitent  sinner  to  itself,  the  Divine  Love  is  anxious 
to  show  the  grounds  of  contrition,  and  to  teach 
what  ought  to  be  forsaken  when  God  is  prayed  to. 
Conduct  must  be  in  unison  with  profession.  And 
the  disclaimer  is  in  these  words :  'Asshur  shall  not 
save  us  ;  we  will  not  ride  upon  horses ;  neither  will 
we  say  any  more  to  the  work  of  our  hands,  Ye  are 
our  gods.' 

'  Asshur  shall  not  save  us.'  Alliance  with  Assyria 
is  a  vain  thing:  any  attempt  to  bribe  off  its  hostility 
but  postpones  for  a  brief  season  the  period  of  na- 
tional overthrow.  *  We  will  not  ride  upon  horses;' 
—  we  will  not  use  cavalry  as  a  means  of  national 
defence.  The  allusion  is  to  Egypt,  ftimous  for  its 
war-steeds.  The  kins;  of  the  Hebrews  was  not  to 
multiply  cavalry,  lest  he  should  be  obliged  to  go 
down  to  Egj^pt  for  horses.  The  prophet  Isaiah  says, 
in  his  sternest  mood,  '  Woe  to  them  that  go  down 
to  Egypt  for  help,  and  stay  on  horses,  and  trust  in 
chariots,  because  they  are  many;  and  in  horsemen, 
because  they  are  very  strong:  but  they  look  not 
unto  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,  neither  seek  the  Lord.' 
And  they  might  be  the  more  inclined  to  go  down 
to  Egypt,  as  Jeroboam  the  first  had  found  an  asylum 


THE    LOVE    OF   INVITATION.  225 

there,  and  brought  back  the  worship  of  its  'fod- 
dered gods.'  In  times  of  panic,  they  promise  no 
longer  to  resort  to  an  arm  of  flesh.  Their  king,  in 
a  civil  sense,  was  God,  for  their  government  was  a 
Theocracy.  So  long  as  tliey  were  true  to  his  charter. 
He  would  be  true  to  His  promise,  and  defend  them. 
'Tlie  shields  of  the  earth  belong  unto  God,'  and  no 
weapon  formed  against  them  should  have  prospered. 
Every  confederacy  would  have  been  broken.  But 
the  heraldry  of  heaven  was  such  that  their  dull  ej-e 
could  not  detect  it;  their  sovereign  dwelt  not  in 
visible  pomp,  and  thc}^  longed  to  have  a  human  king 
to  emulate  the  neighbouring  nations.  They  aban- 
doned confidence  in  Jehovah  —  the  Lord  of  hosts, 
whose  'stars  in  their  courses'  had  fought  against 
Sisera.  And  still  nations  are  apt  to  trust  in  fleets, 
and  armies,  and  mighty  alliances,  and  to  forget  'the 
Lord  strong  and  mighty,  the  Lord  mighty  in  battle.' 
Such  expectations  are  often  dashed  —  for  they  look 
not  to  the  Eternal  Thunderer,  who  'brake  the 
arrows  of  the  bow,  the  shield,  and  the  sword  and 
the  battle  ;  at  whose  rebuke  the  chariots  and  horses 
are  cast  into  a  deep  sleep.'  It  is  remarkable  that 
those  two  nations,  here  cast  off  as  allies,  have  a 
special  and  blessed  prophecy  attached  to  them  by  a 
contemporarj'  prophet :  '  In  that  day  shall  there  be 
a  highway  out  of  Egypt  to  Assyria,  and  the  Assy- 
rian shall  come  into  Eg3'pt,  and  the  Egyptian  into 
Assyria;  and  the  Egyptians  shall  serve  with  the 
Assyrians.  In  that  day  shall  Israel  be  the  third 
with  Egypt  and  with  Assyria,  even  a  blessing  in  the 


226  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

midst  of  the  land:  Vv^hom  the  Lord  of  hosts  shall 
bless,  saying,  Blessed  be  Egypt  my  people,  and 
Assyria  the  work  of  my  hands,  and  Israel  mine 
inheritance.' 

And  they  are  also  taught  to  forswear  idolatry  — 
'  K'either  will  we  say  any  more  to  the  work  of  our 
hands,  Ye  are  onr  gods.'  A  strange  and  humiliat- 
ing confession  indeed !  The  enlightened  mind  can 
scarce  believe  that  any  rational  being  should  call 
that  a  god  which  his  own  fingers  have  formed.  How 
vile  and  blinded  does  a  man  appear  when  before 
God  he  pledges  himself  to  renounce  idolatry.  To 
see  a  creature  in  such  an  attitude,  and  with  such  a 
resolution  on  his  tongue,  what  a  startling  proof  of 
the  degradation  of  our  race !  And  yet  what  so 
common  as  polytheism  —  myriads  have  fallen  under 
the  unhappy  delusion.  '  Gods  many  and  lords  many' 
have  been  all  but  universally  adored  —  some  in  the 
likeness  of  humanity,  and  others  in  the  guise  of 
quadrupeds  and  reptiles.  The  gods  which  the 
tribes  had  worshipped  were  calves,  imitated  from 
the  base  and  bestial  superstitions  of  Egypt,  the  love 
of  which  had  never  wholly  left  them,  and  to  these 
tendencies  Jeroboam  had  wickedl}^  pandered  as  a 
matter  of  statecraft.  We  cannot  comprehend  how 
man  can  descend  so  far,  and  so  miserably  besot  him- 
self. How  terribty  the  Hebrew  prophets  satirise 
idolaters,  and  how  justl}'.  Their  finest  idols  want 
the  ordinary  attributes  of  humanity.  The  eye  is 
there,  but  still  and  dark ;  the  ear  is  there,  but  no 
sound  enters  it.      The  lips  are  sealed  and  mute. 


THE    LOVE   OF   INVITATION.  227 

The  deifying  process  is  ignoble.  The  god  was  once 
a  stick,  but  compasses  and  planes  are  applied  to  it, 
and  after  being  blocked  out  with  an  axe,  and  plated 
and  nailed  together  by  a  'cunning  workman,'  it 
needs  to  be  '  borne  upon  the  shoulder,'  '  set  in  his 
place,'  and  there  he  stands  ;  '  from  his  place  he  can- 
not move,'  unless,  perchance,  he  tumble  from  his 
niche,  hke  Dagon  at  the  presence  of  the  ark.  "When 
such  a  deity  changes  his  scene,  '  Bel  boweth  and 
Nebo  stoopeth,'  'the  carriages  are  heavy  laden,'  and 
the  divinities  are  *a  burden  to  the  weary  beast.' 
The  one  end  of  the  tree  burns  to  cook  provisions, 
and  the  other  end  of  the  same  tree  has  incense 
burned  before  it.  There  could  not  be  a  sin  of  more 
heinous  aggravation  for  Israel  than  to  break  the 
first  commandment  of  the  decalogue,  to  call  the 
calf  a  god,  to  bow  the  knee  before  the  cloven  hoof, 
and  to  ascribe  power  and  prerogative  to  the  golden 
brute,  that  could  not,  like  its  living  type,  brush  a 
fly  from  its  mane,  or  toss  its  horn  in  defiance,  or 
bellow  over  its  grass.  Alas  for  humanity  !  These 
returning  penitents  are  to  renounce  this  worship ; 
and  no  love  but  God's,  deep  and  tender,  could  ever 
welcome  them,  after  such  sin  and  profanity,  and 
teach  them  to  make  this  confession  and  disclaimer. 
And  so  it  is  that  man  must  still  be  divested  of  all 
self-dependence  as  a  necessary  step  to  his  spiritual 
acceptance  and  restoration.  The  church  cannot 
save  him,  nor  can  the  water  of  baptism  secure  his 
salvation.  Existence  in  a  Christian  land,  or  descent 
from  pious  parents,  is  not  identical  with  the  second 


228  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

birth.  The  Lord's  Supper  is  not  to  every  one  the 
bread  of  hfe.  A  place  in  the  roll  of  ecclesiastical 
membership  is  no  infallible  proof  of  inscription  on 
the  pages  of  the  book  of  life.  Protestantism  is  no 
pledge  of  deliverance  from  the  universal  apostasy. 
God's  grace  alone,  Christ's  work  alone,  and  the 
Spirit's  influence  alone,  are  the  one  basis  of  hope, 
and  the  one  means  of  deliverance.  'Nor  are  we 
wholly  free  from  idolatry.  You  may  not  worship 
an  uncouth  fetish — a  stock  or  staff;  but  how  many 
bow  to  those  absorbing  passions  which  rule  the 
world  as  a  divinity  —  the  birth  which  ennobles, 
the  talent  which  elevates,  the  accomplishments 
which  adorn,  the  treasure  which  enriches,  ay,  and 
the  pleasures  which  debase  and  brutify.  Who  is 
there  that  consecrates  his  whole  mind  and  heart  to 
the  God  who  has  given  to  the  one  all  its  powers, 
and  to  the  other  all  its  susceptibilities,  and  who 
therefore  has  an  indefeasible  claim  for  undivided 
and  hearty  service  ?  Who  has  not  some  idol  in  the 
hidden  chambers  of  imagery  within,  to  which  matins 
and  vespers  are  regularly  chaunted?  0  to  be  able 
to  acknowledge  God  alone,  not  in  theory,  but  in 
practical  reality,  to  '  cast  the  idols  to  the  moles  and 
to  the  bats,'  and  so  to  level  the  mountains  and  fill 
up  the  valleys,  that  Jehovah  alone  may  be  exalted  ! 
Thou  art  the  one  Benefactor,  to  Thee  may  we  ever 
turn ;  the  one  Preserver,  in  Thee  may  we  ever  trust. 
Who  is  a  God  like  unto  Thee  ?  Be  this  our  convic- 
tion and  this  the  rule  of  our  faith  and  worship.  Let 
us  encircle  the  one  throne,  and  prostrate  ourselves 


THE   LOVE    OF   INVITATION.  229 

"before  its  one  loving  and  majestic  Occupant.    Tliou 
art  God  alone,  and  beside  Thee  there  is  none  else. 

Feeling  how  far  they  had  wandered  away,  and 
how  deeply  they  had  provoked  Ilim ;  how  they  had 
wantonly  broken  the  covenant,  and  in  insane  super- 
stition had  offered  sacrifice  to  the  calves,  they  needed 
some  mighty  inducement  to  go  back,  and  they  en- 
courage themselves  as  they  return  by  the  blessed 
reflection,  'In  thee  the  fatherless  findeth  mercy.' 
The  pathos  of  the  argument  is  equal  to  its  logic. 
The  poor  orphan  has  a  ready  paternity  and  refuge 
in  God.  The  bereaved  child  that  strays  in  poverty 
and  filth,  in  ignorance  and  wretchedness,  turns  him 
to  a  lordly  portal,  but  he  meets  with  a  curt  and 
surl}^  refusal.  He  looks  w^ith  wistful  gaze  to  a 
passer  by,  but  his  appearance  creates  disgust,  and 
he  is  spurned  away  as  a  loathsome  thing.  Children 
of  his  own  age  stand  aloof  from  him,  and  the  dogs 
instinctively  snarl  at  him.  And  yet  he  may  be 
sinned  against,  the  victim  of  mystery,  the  waif  of  a 
dark  and  disastrous  providence.  But  in  the  crisis 
of  his  fate  some  good  Samaritan  may  discover  him, 
and  see  God's  image  through  incrusted  filth,  and 
may  tend  him,  wash  him,  feed  him,  clothe  him, 
educate  and  provide  for  him ;  develope  his  spiritual 
nature,  and  open  up  for  him  a  path  of  usefulness 
and  honour.  It  may  be  so  —  it  has  often  been  so — 
but  there  are  many  melancholy  exceptions. 

Yet  though  such  compassion  is  not  found  univer- 
sally among  men,  it  never  fails  in  God.     It  is  ever 
true  of  Him,  'In  thee  the  fatherless  findeth  mercy.' 
20 


230  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

Whoever,  prompted  by  the  declaration,  seeks  to  Him 
^vill  find  the  statement  verified.  Iso  one  who  has  in 
this  spirit  claimed  fatherhood  in  God  was  ever  dis- 
missed, no  orphan  who  comes  because  of  his  faith, 
in  this  report,  was  ever  repulsed.  And  he  is  not  put 
off  with  some  civil  but  useless  inquiries,  nor  served 
with  a  few  cheap  counsels,  nor  cheated  out  of  his 
expectations  with  a  miserable  verbal  condolence. 
The  fatherless  finds  what  he  most  wants,  he  finds 
'  mercy'  in  God,  and  that  mercy  secures  to  him  every 
needed  blessing.  Bread  is  given  him,  his  water  is 
sure.  The  filthy  garment  is  taken  from  him,  and  he 
is  dressed  with  a  change  of  raiment.  His  flesli  comes 
to  him  as  the  flesh  of  a  little  child.  He  had  long  fed 
upon  ashes,  but  he  has  now  the  chief  place  at  the 
feast — his  Father's  bosom.  His  heritage  was  w^ant 
and  the  prospect  of  it,  nov/  he  is  an  heir  of  God  and 
a  joint  heir  with  Christ.  The  storm  had  often  beaten 
on  his  brow,  but  a  '  fair  mitre'  is  set  upon  it ;  the 
feet  had  often  been  bruised  and  bleeding,  but  shoes 
are  now  put  upon  them.  Yes ;  'In  thee  the  father- 
less findeth  mercy' — at  once  and  without  hesitation, 
always  and  without  change.  It  is  prompt  and  over- 
flowing. It  is  mercy  leading  to  acceptance,  mercy 
that  knows  what  to  give,  and  how  and  when  to 
bestow  it.  For  the  crowning  mercy  is  that  the  father- 
less finds  a  father,  ay,  his  own  father,  finds  the  love 
of  the  paternal  heart  unchanged,  and  is  welcomed 
across  the  threshold  with  outstretched  arms.  That 
Father  will  not  scorn  the  wanderer,  or  taunt  him 
w^ith  his  folly.     He  will  not  chide  him  and  say,  you 


THE    LOVE    OF    INVITATION.  231 

have  now  come  back  because  you  could  iind  no  better 
place  ;  but  lie  says,  tliough  you  have  found  no  better 
place,  but  a  worse,  yet  you  are  welcome  home.  Re- 
pose again  on  the  bosom  of  mercy,  let  the  paternal 
arm  again  encircle  you  and  wander  no  more. 

It  is,  therefore,  a  truth  which  forms  the  argument 
—  a  truth  that  has  its  birth  in  the  unquenchable 
ardour  of  the  Divine  Love.  It  has  been  verified 
again  and  again,  and  it  will  remain  a  truth  for  the 
solace  of  the  fatherless  in  all  suoceedinir  ao-es.  Could 
we  but  fix  this  conviction  in  your  minds,  that 
you  are  by  your  apostasy  fatherless  wanderers  — 
no  parent  to  protect  you,  no  domicile  to  receive 
you,  and  no  social  board  to  welcome  you ;  then 
would  it  not  follow,  that  you  should  earnestly  desire 
restoration?  Knowing  that  God  has  successfully 
solved  his  self-proposed  problem,  '  How  shall  I  put 
thee  among  the  children;'  rejoicing  that  He  has 
said  to  the  outcast  '  ye  shall  be  my  sons  and  daugh- 
ters ;'  looking  up  to  Him  and  repeating  the  argu- 
ment, 'in  thee  the  fatherless  findeth  mercy,'  and  we 
shall  find  it  too,  —  will  you  not  return  to  the  Lord 
your  God  ?  O  will  not  the  whole  company  of  the 
ransomed  encourage  one  another  as  they  go  back, 
and  '  fill  their  mouth'  with  the  cheering  inducement  ? 
"When  man  had  sinned  at  first,  and  was  expelled  from 
Paradise,  the  cherubim  and  fiery  sword  prevented 
his  return,  lest  he  should  eat  of  the  tree  of  life ;  but 
a  '  new  and  living'  path  has  been  opened  up,  and 
the  angels  are  the  servants  and  guardians  of  such 
as  walk  upon  the  high-way  paved  for  the  redeemed. 


232  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

0,  then,  let  me  ask  you  to  take  but  the  first  step 
back,  and  your  feeble  endeavour  will  be  blessed. 
They  who  have  returned,  bid  you  follow.  The 
Father,  whose  tenderness  has  been  so  often  tested 
and  never  found  wanting ;  the  Son  who  shed  His 
blood  to  open  up  the  pathway  by  w^hich  the  orphan 
might  find  his  home ;  and  the  Spirit  who  shows  the 
apostate  how  dreary  he  is,  till  he  wonder  at  himself, 
and  long  to  go  back, — the  Triune  Jehovah  has  His 
heart  set  on  your  return.  'Turn,  turn  ye;  why 
will  ye  die.'  'Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way,  and 
the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts,  and  let  him 
return-  to  the  Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon 
him,  and  to  our  God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon.' 


THE   LOVE   OP   REVIVAL.  233 


PART  II. 


REVIVAL. 


And  now,  it  is  supposed  that  the  wanderers,  so 
kindly  and  earnestly  spoken  to,  have  listened  to  and 
been  won  by  the  Divine  Love ;  that  they  have  turn- 
ed, taken  with  them  ^  words'  and  offered  this  brief 
and  cordial  prayer ;  that  they  have  been  welcomed 
and  accepted,  and  that  the  first  notes  of  the  song  of 
praise  are  now  springing  out  of  their  incipient  bliss. 
Then  bursts  forth  the  glorious  promise  of  revival, 
which  is  Mike  ointment  poured  forth,'  and  the  re- 
mainder of  the  chapter  is  filled  witli  the  odour.  ^  He 
joys  over  them  with  singing;'  and  the  song  of  Di- 
vine Love  thus  begins :  —  'I  will  heal  their  back- 
sliding, I  will  love  them  freely :  for  mine  anger  is 
turned  away  from  him.' 

'I  will  heal  their  backsliding.'  Their  alienation 
was  not  only  offensive  to  God,  but  also  hurtful  to 
themselves.  It  had  brought  spiritual  malady  upon 
them:  ^  The  whole  head  was  sick,  and  the  whole 
heart  was  faint.'  They  had  strayed  into  a  climate 
where  the  dew  never  fell,  and  the  sun  never  shone 
through  its  damp  and  sickly  vapours.  *Woe  is 
me,'  might  each  of  them  have  said,  '  my  leanness, 
my  leanness  !'  Health  had  left  them,  and  what  had 
the  semblance  of  it  was  a  hectic  deception.  Nor 
20* 


234  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

did  the  region  into  which  they  had  wandered  supply 
any  antidote — what  seemed  to  be  so,  only  yielded  a 
momentary  relief  followed  by  a  deeper  depression. 
But  Jehovah  assumes  the  function  of  healer,  and 
He  effects  what  He  promises.  There  is  a  balm  in 
Gilead  which  never  fails,  and  a  physician  there  who 
was  never  baffled,  who  never  tries  an  experiment — 
never  seeks  counsel  with  any  co-ordinate  wisdom, 
and  always  efiects  a  permanent  cure  —  redeeming 
our  ^life  from  destruction.'  The  God  whom  they 
had  ofiended  does  not  suffer  them  to  perish,  nor 
spurn  them  away  as  loathsome ;  but  He  revives  and 
quickens  them.  The  gangrene  disappears,  and  they 
return  to  soundness  and  health,  with  the  assured 
prospect  of  coming  at  length  to  ^  the  fulness  of  the 
stature  of  perfect  men.' 

'  I  will  love  them  freely.'  For  their  wandering 
deserved  punishment,  but  it  is  remitted.  Continu- 
ance in  sin,  especially  when  provision  is  made  for 
deliverance  from  it,  justly  deserves  the  anger  of 
God.  Still  to  wander,  when  He  w^ooes  you  back  ; 
still  to  be  ignorant,  when  a  Bible  has  been  inspired  ; 
still  to  be  in  poverty,  w^hen  the  fulness  of  His  wealth 
is  offered  ;  still  to  be  under  the  curse,  when  means 
of  reconciliation  have  been  secured  ;  still  to  be  unac- 
cepted, when  '  words'  have  been  found  for  you,  and 
a  throne  of  grace  has  been  erected  for  you ;  still  to 
be  an  orphan,  exposed  and  destitute,  when  a  father's 
heart  yearns  over  you,  and  a  home  is  ^  swept  and 
garnished'  to  receive  you ;  O  such  infatuation  is  no 
ordinary  sin,  and  must  bring  upon  itself  no  ordinary 


THE   LOVE    OF   REVIVAL.  235 

penalty !  But  when  you  comply,  and  come  back, 
His  anger  turns  away:  'Who  is  a  God  like  unto 
thee,  that  pardoneth  iniquity,  and  passeth  by  the 
transgression  of  the  remnant  of  his  heritage ;  he  re- 
taineth  not  his  anger  for  ever,  because  he  delighteth 
in  mercy.  He  will  turn  again,  he  will  have  com- 
passion upon  us ;  he  will  subdue  our  iniquities :  and 
thou  wilt  cast  all  their  sins  into  the  depths  of  the 
sea.'  And  O  remember  what  is  implied  in  His  free 
love ;  what  stores  of  spiritual  blessings,  and  what 
generosity  to  confer  them.  How  He  will  lavish  His 
riches  upon  you  '  exceeding  abundantly  above  all 
you  can  ask  or  think.' 

*  Human  loves  soon  part, 
Like  broken  clouds,  or  like  the  stream 
That,  smiling,  left  the  mountain  brow, 

As  though  its  waters  ne'er  could  sever, 
Yet,  ere  it  reach  the  plains  below, 

Breaks  into  floods  that  part  for  ever/ 

But  the  Divine  love  endures  like  His  own  beinof ! 
Nothing  can  tear  us  from  it.  What  a  gush  of  emo- 
tion rushes  upon  the  apostle's  mind  as  this  high 
thought  passes  through  it :  'I  am  persuaded,  that 
neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities, 
nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come, 
nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall 
be  able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which 
is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.' 

The  divine  beneficence  is  next  portrayed  —  rich, 
varied,  and  satisfying  in  its  nature :  '  I  will  be  as 
the  dew  unto  Israel:  he  shall  grow  as  the  lily,  and 


236  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

cast  forth  his  roots  as  Lebanon.  His  branches  shall 
spread,  and  his  beautj  shall  be  as  the  olive-tree,  and 
his  smell  as  Lebanon.  They  that  dwell  under  his 
shadow  shall  return ;  they  shall  revive  as  the  corn, 
and  grow  as  the  vine  :  the  scent  thereof  shall  be  as 
the  wine  of  Lebanon.' 

'  I  will  be  as  the  dew  unto  Israel.'  Blessing  is 
promised,  and  its  glorious  results  are  portrayed. 
The  dew  was  a  favourite  symbol  of  divine  influence 
with  the  Hebrew  bards.  It  fell  in  copious  drops 
after  the  hot  day  had  passed.  Every  blade  of  grass, 
and  every  leaf,  bore  a  refreshing  globule,  which 
threw  out  its  prismatic  sparkle  as  the  next  sun  rose 
upon  it.  The  dew  comes  not  like  the  hurricane 
with  a  sweep  and  a  howl,  nor  does  it  beat  lustily 
upon  the  earth  like  a  tropical  shower.  Calmly  and 
insensibly  it  steals  downward  to  its  destiny,  beyond 
human  recognition  or  control,  '  waiting  not  for  man, 
nor  tarrying  for  the  sons  of  men.'  '  Hath  the  rain 
a  father?  or  who  hath  begotten  the  drops  of  dew?' 

The  mode  in  which  divine  influence  operates  is 
usually  beyond  human  analysis  and  detection.  It 
comes  when  many  perceive  it  not  —  it  comes  when 
many  expect  it  not.  It  comes  to  its  own  appointed 
]3lace,  and  to  none  other,  as  when  the  fleece  of  Gid- 
eon was  wet,  and  all  was  dry  beyond  it.  "We  are 
not  to  seek  to  solve  the  mystery,  but  our  special  de- 
sire should  be  to  feel  the  blessing.  How  divine  in- 
fluence descends  is  not  for  us  the  question ;  but  the 
question  is,  how  shall  we  enjoy  it?  We  may  not 
know  how  its  impulses  harmonise  with  the  functions 


THE    LOVE   OF   REVIVAL.  237 

of  reason  ;  but  we  know  that  reason  is  not  com- 
pelled while  it  cheerfully  yields.  "What  forms  of 
access  the  Divine  Spirit  may  have  to  my  spirit,  to 
move  it  and  guide  it,  is  a  species  of  ^  knowledge  too 
high  for  me.'  Yet  I  may  rest  contented  that  He 
has  modes  of  entrance,  not  the  less  numerous  and 
not  the  less  real,  though  I  cannot  trace  them.  I 
may  not  feel  the  falling  of  the  dew,  but  I  see  the 
wetted  ground.  Let  us  not  therefore  perplex  our 
minds  as  to  how  God  may  perform  this  promise,  but 
let  us  rest  assured  that  He  in  His  love  will  be  true 
to  it. 

What  fulness  and  richness  of  blessing  in  such  a 
promise !  The  dew  moistens  all  about  it  with  its 
copious  influence.  His  reviving  blessing  will  not 
be  stinted  in  its  nature.  The  divine  love  will  not 
be  niggardly  in  its  gifts.  It  gives  like  itself,  and 
the  church  will  be  filled  'with  all  spiritual  blessings.' 
Such  powerful  impulses,  such  healthful  impressions, 
such  a  tone  of  deep  self-consecration,  such  an 
amount  of  spiritual  mindedness  —  these  are  the 
blessings  of  revival.  And  when  they  are  found 
everywhere,  and  everywhere  in  fulness,  then  may 
w^e  say  that  the  promise  is  realised. 

And  the  dew  descends  silently,  and  in  the  calm 
of  the  evening.  It  comes  not  from  the  thunder- 
cloud. The  church  should  prepare  itself  for  the  ful- 
filment of  the  promise,  and  banish  everything  which 
would  repel  the  Spirit.  All  earthiness  of  temper 
and  fierceness  of  passion  —  all  disunion  and  schism 
—  all  indulgence  in  sins  of  which  anger,  scorn,  and 


238  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

sensual  lusts  are  the  representatives ;  these  repress 
divine  influence,  and  forhid  its  descent.  Let  the 
church  hush  eveiy  evil  burst  by  the  strains  of  her 
hallowed  minstrelsy,  and  calm  her  bosom  in  holy 
expectancy  of  the  promised  gift.  And  it  will  come, 
and  what  a  glorious  epoch  will  the  coming  of  it  be ! 
A  second  Pentecost.  In  order  to  secure  such  a  large 
blessing,  the  best  way  is  to  improve  what  you  have 
got.  Such  is  the  method  of  His  love.  Praise  for 
past  favours  is  the  best  prayer  for  future  gifts. 

The  imagery  employed  by  the  prophet  to  portray 
the  results  of  this  reviving  influence  is  of  exceed- 
ing beauty.  And  there  is  no  wonder.  The  rich 
and  tranquil  landscape  is  only  a  faint  type  of  spi- 
ritual revival  and  abundance.  ^  He  shall  grow  as 
the  lily,  and  cast  forth  his  roots  like  Lebanon.  His 
branches  shall  spread,  and  his  beauty  shall  be  as  the 
olive-tree,  and  his  smell  as  Lebanon.  They  that 
dwell  under  his  shadow  shall  return ;  they  shall  re- 
vive as  the  corn,  and  grow  as  the  vine :  the  scent 
thereof  shall  be  as  the  wine  of  Lebanon.' 

The  imagery  is  tenderly  grouped.  The  lily  sends 
up  from  the  green  bosom  of  the  plain  its  tall  and 
graceful  stalk,  surmounted  with  its  brilliant  cup. 
The  cedars  of  Lebanon  strike  their  roots  deep  into 
the  earth,  and  shake  their  boughs  in  luxuriant 
wantonness.  The  brow  of  Hermon  is  crowned 
wdth  their  glory,  and  the  storm  that  rocks  them 
only  so  loosens  the  soil  that  their  fibres  creep  out- 
ward and  downward  with  rapidity  and  firmness. 
The  olive  rejoices  in  its  fatness  and  fragrance,  for 


THE   LOVE   OF   REVIVAL.  239 

its  foliage  never  fails,  and  it  still  shows  its  silvery 
hue  as  it  is  ruffled  by  the  breeze.  The  scent  of 
Lebanon,  borne  upon  the  winds,  is  refreshing  with 
its  coolness  and  odours.  Under  the  shadow  of  that 
mighty  range,  the  fields  and  orchards  are  protected 
from  the  northern  blast.  The  crops  shoot  up  in 
healthful  verdure.  The  soft  tendrils  of  the  vine 
burst  and  blossom  on  the  slopes,  and  its  laden 
boughs  droop  at  length  with  the  swelling  cluster. 
The  landscape  is  perfect,  and  as  the  eye  gazes 
around  it,  it  sees  at  one  sweep  hill  and  orchard, 
vineyard  and  field,  each  enriched  with  its  appropri- 
ate blessing,  and  all  rejoicing  in  the  beneficence  of 
God. 

It  is  a  picture  of  the  church  enjoying  a  revival. 
What  will  not  the  blessing  of  heaven  efiect  ?  Had 
no  dew  fallen,  bare  cHffs  and  drooping  cedars  might 
have  met  the  eye  — the  lily  pale  and  withered,  the 
fields  parched  and  sickly,  and  the  vine  shorn  of  its 
pregnant  loveliness.  Were  no  divine  influence  to 
descend  upon  us,  what  spiritual  sterility  should 
characterise  us !  If  the  heaven  be  iron,  the  earth 
will  be  brass.  But  if  the  Spirit  be  poured  out  from 
on  high,  'the  wilderness  will  be  counted  for  a  fruit- 
ful field.'  If,  then,  you  see  a  Christian  society  grow- 
ing in  grace  and  abounding  in  love,  its  consecration 
to  its  divine  Lord  becoming  fuller  and  more  tender, 
striving  with  one  heart  for  mutual  edification,  con- 
tinuing 'steadfast  in  the  apostles'  doctrine  and  fel- 
lowship,' exhibiting  a  constant  vigilance,  self-denial, 
and  energy  that  others   may  be  brought  in  and 


240  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

blessed,  are  you  not  induced,  on  beholding  such  a 
delightful  spectacle,  thus  to  salute  it  —  'Hail,  highly- 
favoured  of  the  Lord,  blessed  art  thou'  among 
churches !  Such  a  community,  whatever  its  num- 
bers or  wealth,  is  enjoying  a  revival  —  has  experi- 
ence of  the  divine  love.  "Which  was  the  more  bless- 
ed—  the  crowd  of  Jews  bowing ,  their  turbaned 
heads  in  the  courts  of  the  temple  as  the  smoke  of 
the  sacrifice  ascended,  or  the  hundred  and  twenty 
met  with  one  accord  in  the  upper  room  ?  Which 
was  the  more  blessed  —  the  Romish  hierarchy  in  its 
pomp  and  magnificence,  its  cathedrals  and  palaces, 
its  princes  in  scarlet,  and  its  secular  dominions ;  or 
the  xjoor  Waldenses  gathered  in  some  lonely  glen, 
or  escaping  to  the  mountains  for  their  life,  bleeding 
among  the  snow^s,  and  wrapt  at  length  in  nature's 
purest  winding-sheet?  Barnabas,  when  he  saw  the 
grace  of  God,  was  glad ;  let  us  share  in  his  joy. 

We  have  before  us  also  a  picture  of  healthful- 
ness.  The  cedars  might  have  been  scant  in  foliage, 
the  'goodly  fruit'  of  the  olive  might  have  been  de- 
ficient, the  corn  in  ear  might  scarcely  have  covered 
the  clod,  and  the  clusters  of  the  vine  might  have 
been  light  and  few.  But  all  here  wears  an  aspect 
of  exceeding  health  and  promise.  There  may  be 
real  religion,  but  it  may  be  in  a  sickly  state.  It 
needs  to  be  nursed.  Faith  may  want  vigour  and 
compass  —  love  may  be  cold  and  languid.  '  The 
things  that  remain'  may  be  *  ready  to  die.'  There 
may  be  too  great  conformity  to  the  world,  too  great 
formality  in  all  religious  service.     The  people  may 


THE   LOVE   OF   REVIVAL.  241 

still  come  before  God  as  His  people,  but  too  much 
from  habit,  and  too  little  from  eagerness  to  see  His 
power  and  glory,  as  they  have*  seen  Him  in  the 
sanctuary.  That  predominant  motive  has  lost  its 
freshness  and  predominance — '  we  would  see  Jesus.' 
In  prayer,  while  blessings  are  sought,  it  may  be 
without  due  appreciation  of  them,  or  earnest  faith 
in  Him  by  whose  blood  they  have  been  provided. 
The  word  of  God  may  be  still  read,  but  the  mind 
may  have  lost  its  early  docility  and  its  first  felt  need 
of  divine  enlightenment.  The  thoughts  may  wan- 
der when  they  ought  to  be  concentrated,  and  the 
pulsations  of  life  may  be  slow  and  feeble.  Too 
much  and  too  often  is  this  the  case ;  and  the  churches 
ought  ever  to  be  on  their  guard  lest  they  fall  into 
this  '  lukewarm'  state.  But  if  this  promise  be  ful- 
filled, if  the  dew  descend  in  its  divine  copiousness, 
health  returns,  and  the  'well  w^atered'  church  re- 
vives. The  young  will  be  filled  with  ardour,  and 
the  old  enriched  vv^ith  a  happy  experience.  The 
men  of  secular  activity,  while  they  are  '  diligent  in 
business,'  will  be  at  the  same  time  *  fervent  in  spi- 
rit.' Mothers  will  nurse  their  babes  for  Christ,  and 
fathers  train  their  children  not  only  for  worldly  ad- 
vancement, but  especially  'in  the  nurture  and  ad- 
monition of  the  Lord.'  Every  house  will  be  a 
Bethel,  and  ever}^  heart  a  sanctuary.  The  rich  will 
be  'poor  in  spirit,'  and  the  poor  'rich  in  faith.' 
The  flush  of  a  holy  enthusiasm  will  be  spread  over 
all.  Would  to  God  that  we  witnessed  such  scenes, 
and  that  there  were  no  rarity  among  us !  Then  the 
21 


242  THE   DIVINE  LOVE. 

cliurclies  would  be  ^  edified'  —  ^  walking  in  the  fear 
of  the  Lord,  and  in  the  comfort  of  the  Holy  Ghost.' 
The  picture  presented  to  us  is,  at  the  same  time, 
one  of  beauty.  The  landscape  smiles  upon  us  in 
its  variety  and  richness,  and  its  '  scent  is  as  the  wine 
of  Lebanon.'  What  object  can  be  so  attractive  as 
revived  religion  —  every  grace  in  lively  exercise,  — 
Christ  loved  with  ardour,  and  the  Spirit's  influence 
earnestly  cherished  —  prayer  arising  as  incense  — 
praise  felt  to  be  'comely,'  and  therefore  habitual  — 
every  believer  as  happy  as  he  is  useful,  reflecting 
the  divine  image,  and  breathing  the  atmosphere  of 
heaven.  Men  may  scoff*  at  such  a  scene,  and  won- 
der, and,  it  may  be,  caricature  it,  calling  it  fanatical 
excitement ;  but  the  church  luxuriates  in  it,  and  is 
filled  with  grateful  amazement  at  the  divine  good- 
ness. Nay,  such  a  scene  would  soon  tell  on  the 
world,  and  compel  it  to  admiration.  "When  it  saw 
such  purity  and  happiness,  such  elevation  and  dig- 
nity, such  an  assemblage  of  all  the  virtues  which 
adorn  humanity  —  piety  combined  with  patriotism 
—  devotion  nourishing  philanthropy  —  science,  art, 
and  business  hallowed  and  ennobled  by  the  spirit 
in  which  they  are  pursued  —  earth  enjoyed  while 
heaven  is  looked  for  —  time  improved  while  eter- 
nity is  prepared  for — would  not  the  world  be  moved 
by  the  spectacle,  and  brought  to  confess  that  religion 
has  a  power  and  a  glory  which  proclaim  its  super- 
human birth?  A  revived  church  would  certainly 
be  a  mighty  and  successful  agent  in  the  conversion 
of  the  nations.     The  world  would  not  then  ask  in 


THE   LOVE   OF   REVIVAL.  243 

taunt,  'What  do  ye  more  than  others,'  or  how  are 
ye  better  than  others  ?  but  it  would  see  and  acknow- 
ledge an  arm  divine. 

Again,  the  scene  is  one  of  great  fertility.  There 
is  not  only  fragrance  of  blossom,  but  also  exuber- 
ance of  fruit  —  the  fields  growing  '  white  unto  har- 
vest,' and  the  ruddy  clusters  foretelling  an  early  and 
ample  vintage.  There  is  not  merely  the  show  of 
fruit,  but  the  reality.  Under  the  outpoured  influ- 
ence of  the  Spirit,  there  are  seen  the  fruits  of  deep 
practical  piet}'.  There  is  not  only  enjoyment,  but 
activity  :  fruitfalness  '  in  every  good  work,'  as  there 
is  added  '  to  faith,  virtue ;  and  to  virtue,  knowledge ; 
and  to  knowledge,  temperance  ;  and  to  temperance, 
patience ;  and  to  patience,  godliness ;  and  to  god- 
liness, brotherly-kindness;  and  to  brotherly-kind- 
ness, charity.'  Whatever  good  needs  to  be  done, 
the  earnest  church  does  it.  Whatever  be  the  form 
of  activity,  physical  or  spiritual,  it  meets  with  a 
ready  response.  Keither  wealth  nor  labour  is 
grudged;  neither  patience  nor  travail  is  spared. 
Whatever  interests  humanity,  interests  the  church; 
whatever  gives  man  social  elevation  or  civil  freedom 
—  whatever  removes  any  disturbing  element  on  his 
health  or  industry  —  whatever,  in  short,  has  a  ten- 
dency to  ^  roll  the  stone  from  the  well's  mouth,' 
comes  home  to  the  bosom  and  sympathies  of  the 
church  of  Christ.  He  cleansed  the  leper,  as  well  as 
proclaimed  the  kingdom  —  supplied  wine  to  a  feast, 
as  well  as  preached  the  gospel — fed  the  multitudes, 
as  well  as  expelled  the  demon.     Especially  will  the 


244  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

spiritual  interests  of  the  world  engage  the  efforts 
of  the  church.  Kevived  piety  is  recruited  strength 
for  the  task.  The  gospel  is  not  merely  enshrined 
in  the  heart,  but  borne  upon  the  lips,  carried  in  the 
hand,  and  commended  by  the  life.  Divine  fruit ! — 
and  the  end  is  'glory  to  God  in  the  highest.' 

What  an  unbroken  harmony  pervades  the  pro- 
phetic landscape !  There  is  no  conflicting  promi- 
nence in  any  part  of  the  imagery.  The  cedar  is 
not  proudly  overshadowing  the  lily  —  the  olive  is 
not  struggling  to  dwarf  the  vine ;  and  there  is  no 
thicket  to  choke  the  reviving  corn.  A  spirit  of 
unity  reigns  throughout.  The  church  enjoying  the 
divine  blessing,  is  one — each  part  rejoicing  in  every 
other ;  for  asperities  are  smothered,  and  past  bitter- 
nesses are  mellowed.  The  pre-eminent  does  not 
boast  itself  over  the  retiring — the  wealth  that  gains 
itself  a  noble  name,  does  not  arrogate  any  superior- 
ity over  the  sympathy  that  washes  a  beggar's  feet. 
Divested  of  prejudices,  men  'see  eye  to  eye,'  and 
wonder  why  they  came  aforetime  to  so  different 
conclusions.  Controversy  lays  aside  its  mail,  and 
difference  of  position  does  not  create  sectarian 
rivalry.  The  believer,  whoever  he  be,  is  hailed  as  a 
brother;  for  your  arm  may  embrace  him  whom 
Christ's  arm  has  encircled  and  blessed.  The  '  one 
mind'  receives  the  one  truth ;  the  '  one  heart'  is 
filled  with  the  one  love;  and  there  is  the  'one 
mouth'  to  glorify  God.  So  near  Christ,  all  the 
members  of  His  church  are  near  one  another.  The 
realisation  of  their  union  to  Christ,  leads  them  to 


THE   LOVE   OF   REVIVAL.  245 

feel  their  brotherhood  in  Ilim.  The  whole  church 
will  breathe  that  '  charity  which  is  the  bond  of  per- 
fectness,'  loving  and  loved,  by  an  indissoluble  tie. 
When  shall  such  love  be  exhibited  in  this  distracted 
world,  and  amidst  its  feuds  and  factions  ?  What 
prayer  for  the  Spirit  must  precede  it  —  prayer  that 
He  may  reign  until  the  'one  Lord'  is  confessed, 
and  the  'one  baptism'  has  been  enjoyed.  The 
foul  flap  of  the  raven's  wing  has  too  often  dark- 
ened the  scene.  0  for  the  brooding  of  the  gentle 
dove  !  ITations  covet  the  eagle  of  quick  eye,  strong 
pinion,  and  bloody  talon  as  their  humble  sym- 
bol ;  but  the  church  has  for  her's  the  dove  —  the 
Spirit  that  alighted  on  her  Master,  and  'abode 
upon  Him.' 

There  is  also,  and  in  fine,  the  prospect  of  increase. 
It  is  no  evanescent  scene.  '  He  shall  cast  forth  his 
roots  as  Lebanon.'  What  is  now  seen  is  only  as 
the  first-fruits  of  a  richer  verdure  and  plenty.  And 
to  the  enjoyment  of  this  spiritual  plenty,  the  prayers 
and  energies  of  the  church  be  directed.  Amidst 
all  exercises  and  functions,  this  one  end  should  ever 
be  in  view.  When  an  emigrant  goes  to  a  new  coun- 
try, he  may  engage  in  many  kinds  of  rural  labour; 
but  his  heart  is  borne  up  by  the  prospect  of  a  crop. 
Whether  he  fells  timber  and  clears  the  soil,  or  drains 
it  or  ploughs  it  —  the  one  motive  is  to  see  his  fields 
laden  with  promise.  I^ow,  to  enjoy  such  spiritual 
plenty,  from  the  descent  of  the  promised  dew,  should 
animate  the  church  to  exertion  and  prayer.  O  did 
we  feel  our  need  of  the  Spirit,  with  our  own  insig- 
21* 


246  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

nificance  and  feebleness — did  we  feel  how  dry  and 
parched  is  the  land  where  there  is  no  water,  then 
should  we  eagerly  long  for  and  pray  for  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  promise.  And  in  answer  to  such 
prayer,  the  atmosphere,  surcharged  with  blessing, 
will  moisten  the  earth,  and  the  'fruits  of  righteous- 
ness' w^ill  gladden  the  heart  of  the  Divine  Husband- 
man ;  —  the  gleanings  of  Abiezer  shall  be  better 
than  the  vintage  of  Ephraim,'  and  the  handful  of 
corn  on  the  top  of  the  mountains  shall  shake  with 
fruit  like  Lebanon.  It  will  come.  God  speed  the 
time  !  0  that  it  w^ould  come,  and  that  soon  —  be 
this  our  fervent  and  repeated  prayer.  Till  then,  we 
believe,  and  wait,  and  hope. 

Yerse  8.  'Ephraim  shall  say,  "What  have  I  to  do 
any  more  with  idols  ?  I  have  heard  him,  and  ob- 
served him :  I  am  like  a  green  fir-tree :  from  me  is 
thy  fruit  found.' 

And  what  is  the  immediate  efliect  of  such  blessings 
on  his  people  ?  '  Ephraim  shall  say.  What  have  I 
to  do  any  more  with  idols  ?' 

*  Gods  they  had  tried  of  every  shape  and  size 
That  godsmiths  could  produce,  or  priests  devise/ 

But  now  Ephraim  wonders  why  he  ever  should 
have  had  to  do  with  them,  and  he  is  heartil}^ 
ashamed  of  them.  ^None  of  them  could  do  for  him 
what  God  has  done;  none  of  the  'vanities  of  the 
Gentiles'  could  either  promise  or  send  the  dew.  So 
thoroughly  convinced  is  he  now  of  God's  unity  and 
supremacy,  that  he  is  effectually  cured  of  all  pro- 


THE   LOVE    OF  REVIVAL.  247 

pensity  to  idolatry.  Tliere  is  no  word  so  ominous 
to  him  as  idol  —  no  practice  so  revolting  as  that  of 
idolatry.  That  sin  now  stands  out  to  him  as  *  ex- 
ceeding sinful.'  His  penitence  is  sincere,  and  it  is 
accepted.  When  Ephraim  says,  in  this  contrite 
spirit,  '  What  have  I  to  do  any  more  with  idols  V 
Jehovah  responds,  '  I  have  heard  him  and  observed 
him.'  Ilis  actions  declare  his  intentions  to  be 
honest  —  his  practice  justifies  his  declared  resolu- 
tion. God  had  observed  him.  The  eye  of  heaven 
was  upon  him,  but  it  had  not  detected  any  lurking 
inclination  to  bow  in  secret,  or  to  make  any  compro- 
mise with  the  calves.  His  confession  and  vow  are 
therefore  accepted  and  registered. 

The  humbled  Ephraim  hears  the  glorious  promise ; 
but  as  he  gazes  on  the  imagery  taken  from  hill, 
field,  and  orchard,  he  feels  as  if  none  of  it  was  rea- 
lised in  him.  'I  am,'  he  sobs,  Mike  a  green  fir- 
tree.'  That  tree  is  fruitless,  only  a  piece  of  timber. 
Ephraim,  in  his  humility,  can  see  in  himself  neither 
the  vine,  nor  the  olive,  nor  the  field  of  cereal  crop. 
He  feels  as  if  reviving  influence  was  only  partially 
enjoyed  by  him  as  yet;  for  he  is  but  'a  green  fir- 
tree.'  But  Jehovah  responds  at  once  to  his  moan- 
ing, and  says,  ^From  Me  is  thy  fruit  found.' 
Ephraim  shall  have  fruit,  and  it  will  be  from  God. 
Let  not  despair  seize  thee  :  the  power  to  bear  fruit 
is  fast  descending  upon  thee,  and  it  comes  from  Me. 
If  men  complain  of  spiritual  sterility,  and  if  their 
complaint  be  genuine,  the  Hearer  of  Prayer  will 
not  disregard  it,  but  will  graciously  impart  His 
fructifying  influences;  so  that  '  they  shall  bring  forth 


248  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

fruit  in  old  age,  thej  shall  be  fat  and  flourishing.' 
Such  is  the  last  and  blessed  tenderness  of  the 
Divine  love. 

And  now  this  change  or  revival  is  so  peculiar  as 
not  to  be  understood  by  ordinary  intellect.  Yerse  9, 
*  Who  is  wise,  and  he  shall  understand  these  things  ? 
prudent,  and  he  shall  know  them  ?  for  the  ways  of 
the  Lord  are  right,  and  the  just  shall  walk  in  them  : 
but  the  transgressors  shall  fall  therein.' 

^Who  is  wise,  and  he  shall  understand  these 
things  ?  prudent,  and  he  shall  know  them  ?'  It 
needs  wisdom  and  prudence  not  our  own  to  learn 
the  blessedness  and  reality  of  a  revival.  The  sphere 
of  spiritual  influence  is  beyond  the  cognizance  of 
our  senses.  While  many  scoflT  and  toss  their  heads 
in  credulity,  let  us  experience  it  —  then  shall  we 
really  know  it.  Let  us  not  be  content  with  admir- 
ing it;  let  us  seek,  aye  seek  above  all  things,  to 
share  in  it.  '  For  the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  right, 
and  the  just  shall  walk  in  them.'  God's  procedure 
is  always  just,  and  His  people  at  all  times  acknow- 
ledge its  equity:  'But  the  transgressors  shall  fall 
therein  ;'  they  cannot  comprehend  it.  It  offends 
them  by  its  seeming  mystery  and  inequality,  and 
they  stumble  and  fall  —  declaring  it  to.  be  a  hard 
and  uneven  path,  and  exclaiming  in  bitterness  that 
'the  ways  of  the  Lord  are  not  equal.' 

But  surely  you  will  rejoice  in  the  magnificent 
manifestation  of  Divine  Love  which  this  chapter 
has  brousrht  before  us.     What  can  be  more  refresh- 

o 

ing?  —  its  language  is  so  full  of  pathos  ;  its  imagery 
reposes  in  tranquil  brightness ;  and  its  spirit  is  that 


THE    LOVE    OF    REVIVAL.  249 

of  deepest  solicitation  and  most  gorgeous  promise. 
0  that  the  period  were  come,  and  that  all  onr 
churches  felt  it !  Never  let  us  regard  it  as  a  roman- 
tic impossibility.  It  has  been  partially  witnessed, 
and  it  will  be  more  fully  experienced.  Christ's 
church  has  not  been  forgotten  by  Him.  'No :  as  his 
bride  sighs  for  Ilim,  will  lie  not  respond  ?  And  as 
He  advances,  will  not  she  recognise  Ilim  in  the  dis- 
tance, and  joyfully  exclaim,  '  The  voice  of  my  Be- 
loved: behold  He  cometh  leaping  upon  the  moun- 
tains, skipping  upon  the  hills  !'  Let  the  spirit  of 
praj^erful  and  confident  anticipation  'prepare  the 
way  of  the  Lord.'  And  Thou,  whose  Name  is  Love, 
do  Thou  grant  'times  of  refreshing.'  Send  forth 
Thy  pioneers  to  prepare  the  church  for  this  over- 
shadowing power  of  the  Highest.  Kevive  by  Thy 
gracious  influences  Thy  withered  and  mourning 
possession.  Let  Thy  dews  come  thick,  heav}^,  and 
prolonged,  as  '  floods  upon  the  dry  ground.'  0  give 
sap  and  verdure  to  Thy  'trees  of  righteousness,' 
Thine  own  planting,  that  Thou  mayest  be  glorified. 
Let  not  Lebanon  be  ashamed,  nor  Sharon  be  as  a 
wilderness ;  let  not  Bashan  languish,  nor  the  top  of 
Carmel  wither.  Fulfil  Thine  old  promise  — 'I  will 
hear  the  heaven,  and  the  heaven  shall  hear  the  earth, 
and  the  earth  shall  hear  the  corn,  and  the  wine,  and 
the  oil.'  And  then  Thy  revived  and  satisfied  church 
shall  respond  to  this  love,  and  cry  in  her  eagerness, 
'Awake,  0  north  wind,  and  come  thou  south,  blow 
upon  my  garden,  that  the  spices  thereof  may  flow 
out.  Let  my  beloved  come  into  his  garden,  and 
eat  his  pleasant  fruits.' 


250  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 


LECTURE  X 


TEE   DIVINE    LOVE   IN   ITS   REFLEX   POWER   AND 
MANIFESTATIONS. 

DETACHED    ANNOTATIONS. 

1.  THE  MOMENTOUS  QUESTION. 

*  So  when  they  had  dined,  Jesus  saith  to  Simon  Peter,  Simon, 
son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  me  more  than  these?  He  saith  unto 
him,  Yea,  Lord  ;  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee.  He  saith  unto 
him,  Feed  my  Lambs.  He  saith  to  him  again  the  second  time, 
Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou  me  ?  He  saith  unto  him,  Yea, 
Lord  ;  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee.  He  saith  unto  him,  Feed 
my  sheep.  He  saith  unto  him  the  third  time,  Simon,  Son  of 
Jonas,  lovest  thou  me  ?  Peter  wa.8  grieved  because  he  said  unto 
him  the  third  time,  Lovest  thou  me?  And  he  said  unto  him, 
Lord,  thou  knowest  all  things ;  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee. 
Jesus  saith  unto  him.  Feed  my  sheep/ — John  xxii.  15 — 17. 

Peter  had  denied  his  Lord.  The  heart  of  the  bold 
raan  had  failed  ;  and  in  fright  at  the  gossip  of  a 
waiting  maiden,  he  who  had  drawn  a  sword  in  pre- 
sence of  the  Roman  soldiers,  told  a  deliberate  false- 
]2ood — once  and  again,  and  the  third  time  confirmed 
his  denial  with  an  oath.  'I  know  not  the  man,'  he 
solemnly  avowed  —  that  man  with  whom  but  a  few 
hours  before  he  had  pledged  himself  to  die  —  that 


THE   MOMENTOUS   QUESTION.  251 

man  who,  as  the  words  of  repudiation  reached  His 
ear,  turned  such  a  look  of  pity  upon  the  recreant 
apostle,  that  he  went  out  and  wept  bitterly.'  Precious 
tears  of  thiue,  Peter,  for  they  relieved  the  oppression 
of  thy  sorrow,  and  were  the  signs  of  thy  genuine 
contrition.  Judas  had  none  to  shed,  and  he  *went 
and  hanged  himself.'  But  Jesus  still  loved  Peter, 
and  the  message  about  His  own  resurrection  ran 
thus ;  '  Go  and  tell  his  disciples,  and  Peter.'  0  what 
kindness  to  the  penitent ! — and  he  needed  it.  'N&j, 
early  on  the  very  day  He  rose,  the  Lord  appeared 
to  Simon.  And  now,  when  the  Master  met  him.  He 
saw  his  returning  love ;  for  as  soon  as  he  knew  that 
it  was  the  Lord,  he  tightened  his  robe,  flung  himself 
into  the  cold  sea,  and,  bravely  buffetting  the  waves, 
swam  to  the  shore  —  more  than  a  hundred  yards. 
The  whole  company  then  got  the  invitation  from  the 
mysterious  purveyor,  '  Come  and  dine.'*  And  they 
dined,  and  the  meal  being  ended,  Peter  was  accosted 
with  the  startling  question,  ^  Lovest  thou  me  ?  His 
smitten  heart  at  once  replied,  '  Yea,  Lord,  thou 
knowest  that  I  love  thee.'  Again  was  the  question 
put,  and  again  was  the  same  answer  given.  A  third 
time  did  the  Lord  make  the  unvarying  interrogation, 
and  a  third  time,  Peter  answered  with  a  broader 
assurance,  'Lord,  thou  know^est  all  things;  thou 
knowest  that  I  love  thee.'  Three  times  had  he 
denied  his  Master,  and  three  times  was  he  questioned 

*  Dinner  is  here  simply  the  forenoon,  in  contrast  with  supper, 
or  the  afternoon  meal. 


252  THE    DIYINE    LOVE. 

as  to  his  love.  But  Lis  mind  was  now  chastened — 
there  was  no  bold  asseveration — no  pledge  of  going 
to  death  —  no  boast  of  superior  attachment.  The 
humble  appeal  was  at  length  to  Christ's  own  om- 
niscience and  His  knowledge  of  the  speaker's  heart. 
I^ow,  does  not  the  same  authority  put  the  same 
question  to  us  ?  Has  not  He  the  right  to  put  it  ? 
Dare  we  demur  to  answer  it  ?  Can  we  challenge 
the  Saviour's  claim  to  our  love?  If  He  has  loved 
us,  and  died  for  us — given  us  such  a  pledge  of  His 
love  as  cannot  be  rivalled ;  and  if  He  is  bestowing 
upon  us  the  fruits  of  that  love  in  forms  of  blessing 
which  He  only  could  think  of  and  confer — beyond 
all  question  we  are  summoned  to  love  Him.  Surely 
as  He  points  to  Calvary  in  the  past,  and  to  the 
Heaven  prepared  by  Him  and  held  by  Him  for  the 
future,  He  has  the  unchallengeable  claim  of  asking, 
'Lovest  thou  me?'  And  is  it  not  to  bestir  us  to 
self-examination  that  He  so  shapes  the  question? 
He  is  anxious  that  we  love  Him.  And  the  formal 
question  is  meant  to  put  us  on  our  guard.  He  ques- 
tions you,  to  prompt  3'ou  to  question  yourselves. 
Let  us  look  in  and  examine.  Is  love  to  Christ  there 
at  all ;  or,  is  it  so  overlaid  that  we  cannot  detect  it  ? 
Is  it  there  in  power  as  it  ought  to  be ;  or,  is  it,  as 
in  a  coffin,  feeble  and  useless  ?  Is  it  the  ruling  pas- 
sion, or  but  an  incidental  guest?  Does  it  constrain 
you  to  self-consecration ;  or  rather,  do  you  repress 
and  stifle  it  ?  You  have  certainly  done  many  things 
unworthy  of  that  love,  and  probably  some  things  in 
defiance  of  it;  there  is,  therefore,  just  cause  that 


THE   MOMENTOUS   QUESTION.  253 

you  subject  yourselves  to  a  searching  scrutin}^  Of 
the  woman  welcomed  by  the  Lord,  he  said,  '  she 
loved  much.'  0  that  lie  could  bear  such  a  testi- 
mony of  us ! 

May  not  Jesus  be  suspecting  you,  when  He  puts 
the  testing  question?  lias  He  not  just  grounds? 
Peter  had  thrice  denied  Him ;  and  have  you  never 
acted  in  a  similar  spirit?  You  may  not,  in  so  many 
wordri,  have  disclaimed  all  knowledge  of  Ilim  ;  but, 
alas,  how  often  have  you  acted  as  if  He  did  not 
exist !  as  if  there  w^ere  no  Christ,  or  you  had  no 
faith  in  Him,  and  no  love*to  Him  —  as  if  you  had 
renounced  all  His  claims  upon  you.  You  do  not 
say  so —you  would  shrink  from  sa^'ing  it;  but  you 
have  acted  as  if  it  were  so.  Ah  yes ;  when  that 
pursuit  so  engrossed  you  that  you  could  think  of 
nothing  else  but  it,  according  to  your  own  confes- 
sion ;  w^hen  that  object  you  set  your  heart  upon  was 
the  thought  of  the  day  and  the  dream  of  the  night ; 
when  that  child  became  so  much  of  an  idol,  or  that 
fame  so  much  of  a  passion ;  when  that  affliction 
suddenly  struck  you,  and  in  your  first  paroxysm 
you  did  not  think  at  once  of  telling  Jesus ;  when 
that  temptation  overcame  you,  and  you  forgot  Him 
in  its  early  blandishments;  when  that  company 
treated  His  name  lightly,  and  you  interposed  not  to 
rebuke  or  argue ;  or  w^hen  that  enterprise  of  Chris- 
tian beneficence  was  set  on  foot,  and  you  allowed  it 
to  go  on  without  one  word  of  approbation,  one 
prayer  for  its  success,  or  one  mite  for  its  support. 
May  not  Christ  suspect  you,  to  induce  you  to  sus- 
22 


254  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

pect  yourselves,  and  have  you  not  just  grounds  of 
suspicion?  Be  jealous  over  yourselves  'with  a 
godl}' jealousy,'  and  slacken  not  your  efforts,  and 
abate  not  your  scrutiny,  till  you  can  appeal  to  His 
omniscience,  and  say,  'Lord,  thou  knowest  that  I 
love  thee.'  See  that  you  do  this  as  honestly  as 
Peter.  O  to  be  warranted  to  do  so,  with  yet  higher 
assurance ! 

The  grand  proof  of  Peter's  love  was  to  be  seen 
in  his  obedience  to  the  command,  '  Feed  my  lambs  : 
feed  my  sheep.'  This  '  shepherding'  of  the  flock 
was  to  be  his  special  care  ;  and  nobly  he  discharged 
its  duties,  till  at  length  he  sealed  his  testimony  with 
his  blood.  And  still  the  cause  of  Christ  represents 
Himself,  and  it  is  neither  an  unworthy  nor  an  un- 
commissioned representative.  He  that  loves  Him, 
will  love  it.  Where  there  is  love  to  Him,  there 
must  be  love  to  it. 

'Hast  Thou  a  lamb  in  all  Thy  flock 
I  would  disdain  to  feed? 
Hast  Thou  a  foe  before  whose  face 
^I  fear  Thy  cause  to  plead?' 

Por  whatever  reminds,  and  is  so  moulded  and 
placed  as  to  remind  one  of  the  absent  object  of  love, 
creates  attachment  to  itself.  The  cause  of  Christ 
so  stands  to  us  ;  and  if  we  love  Christ,  we  cannot 
but  love  it.  It  is  His:  His  heart  is  set  upon  it,  it 
bears  upon  it  His  image,  and  He  has  left  it  in  charge 
to  His  people.  The  furtherance  of  that  cause  can 
rightly  proceed  only  from  love  to  Him  in  it.     If  we 


THE  NEW  COMMANDMENT.  265 

arc  indifterent  to  it — if  wo  care  not  about  the  purity, 
the  union,  and  the  extension  of  the  church  —  if  we 
pray  not,  labour  not,  and  give  not  for  it  —  if  we 
prefer  not  Jerusalem  to  our  chiefest  joy,  how  can 
any  one  of  us  dare  to  say  to  the  risen  Redeemer, 
'  Lord,  thou  knowest  all  things  :  thou  knowest  that 
I  love  thee  V  Would  not  His  immediate,  if  not  in- 
dignant answer  be,  '  If  ye  love  me,  keep  my  com- 
mandments;' and  in  My  absence,  cherish  My  cause 
— the  cause  I  bled  for,  and  then  committed  to  you — 
the  cause  involving  My  glory  and  My  full  reward  ? 

And  that  cause  of  His  is  no  abstract  or  impersonal 
thing.  His  people  are  identified  with  it  —  they  are 
its  embodiment.  They  bear  His  likeness,  and  each 
one  that  loves  Him,  will  also  love  His  image.  And 
therefore  He  who  challenges  our  love  has,  in  order 
to  warn  and  direct  us,  left  behind  Him  — 

II.    THE    NEW    COMMANDMENT. 

*A  new  commandraeat  I  give  unto  you,  That  ye  love  one  an- 
other ;  as  I  have  loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one  another.  By 
this  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  have  love 
one  to  another.' — John  xiii.  34,  35. 

The  divine  love  produces  in  the  believer's  heart 
the  reflection  of  itself.  ISTot  only  does  it  incite  him 
to  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  to  love  all  who 
bear  Christ's  image.  Love  to  the  brethren  is  only 
another  form  of  loving  Christ,  for  it  is  loving  Christ 
in  them.  The  Redeemer  is  absent  Himself,  but 
He  has  left  behind  Him  visible  representatives; 
and  they  are,  for  His  sake,  to  share  in  our  affec- 


256  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

tion.  Of  Plim  it  is  said,  'Whom,  having  not 
seen,  ye  love ;'  but  of  them  it  is  true,  that  because 
we  see  them,  therefore  do  we  love  them.  To  His 
disciples  at  the  Paschal  board,  and  over  the  symbols 
of  His  holy  suffering  humanity,  our  Lord  said, 
'Whither  I  go,  ye  cannot  come.'  I  am  about  to 
leave  you,  and  ye  cannot  in  the  meantime  follow 
Me.  It  is  on  3'Our  errand  I  am  going,  and  ye  must 
remain  behind  to  do  My  work.  So  long  as  He  was 
with  them,  He  was  the  bond  of  union  among  them : 
loving  Him,  they  loved  one  another  in  Him.  But 
He  was  soon  to  be  withdrawn  from  them,  and  there- 
fore it  was  needful  to  lay  upon  them  the  injunction 
still  to  love  one  another.  In  their  new  circum- 
stances, there  was  need  of  the  new  commandment. 
The  family  had  the  more  need  to  cling  closely  to- 
gether after  the  Elder  Brother  had  left  them.  While 
they  followed  Him,  if  two  of  them  happened  to  dis- 
agree, a  word  from  Him  removed  the  misunder- 
standing, and  a  look  from  Him  brought  reconcilia- 
tion and  harmon3\  But  now,  if  offences  should 
come,  and  He  be  away,  it  Avas  only  in  the  spirit  of 
mutual  attachment  that  peace  and  concord  could  be 
preserved  among  them. 

Such  a  command  as  that  of  brother-loye*  was  not 

*  AVe  render  the  term  usually  translated  '  brotherly-kindness/ 
by  the  more  correct  equivalent,  '  brother-love/  Such  is  the 
literal  meaning  of  the  Greek  compound.  Brotherly-love  is  love 
which  in  its  nature  is  brotherly,  but  brother-love  is  such  love  as 
every  brother  is  entitled  to  demand  and  receive.  In  calling  it 
brotherly-love,  one  might  suppose  that  it  signified  such  love  as 


THE   NEW   COMMANDMENT.  ^57 

wholly  new  in  its  spirit.  Even  under  the  Rternncss 
of  the  Old  Testament,  men  were  summoned  to  love 
their  neighbour  as  themselves.  But  this  love  was 
somewhat  different  from  brotherly-kindness.  The 
one  is  the  love  of  man  as  man,  the  other  is  the  love 
of  man  as  a  fellow-believer.  Love  to  the  human 
family  is  not  identical  with  love  to  the  household 
of  faith.  The  law  had  also  already  taught  some 
points  of  this  duty.  Thus  the  Mosaic  statute  said, 
*Thou  shalt  not  suffer  sin  upon  thy  brother,'  —  a 
mode  of  brother-love  which,  though  negative  in  its 
form,  was  genuine  in  its  spirit.  But  in  its  express- 
ness and  comprehensiveness  this  command  was  new. 
It  was  now  given  in  direct  phraseology,  and  it 
developed  the  one  principle  to  which  all  preceding 
enactments  were  to  be  traced.  Incidental  injunc- 
tions had  contained  some  one  or  other  of  the  features 
of  this  brother-love ;  but  all  such  commands  were 
absorbed  in  this  novel  and  engrossing  declaration, 
^Love  one  another.'      Various   practical  elements 

should  be  cherished  toward  us ;  whereas,  by  calling  it  brother- 
love,  the  true  meaning  is  brought  out  —  such  love  as  every  one 
sustaining  the  relation  of  a  brother  has  the  right  to  expect.  In 
short,  the  affection  is  not  brotherly-love  named  subjectively  from 
him  who  cherishes  it;  but  brother-love  named  objectively  from 
him  who  is  the  authorised  object  of  it.  So  in  other  Greek  terms 
similarly  constructed — philosophia  is  not  wise  love,  but  love  of 
wisdom;  ■pliilantliropia  is  not  manly  love,  but  love  of  man; 
philarrjuria  is  not  raonied  love,  but  love  of  money ;  philotimia  is 
not  honourable  love,  but  love  of  honour ;  and  philoponia  is  not 
laborious  love,  but  love  of  labour,  etc. 

22* 


258  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

had  been  previously  delineated ;  hut  now,  and  for 
the  first  time,  the  theory  was  enforced. 

The  commandment  was  new  also  in  its  origin  and 
place.  It  had  come,  in  some  of  its  dictates,  from 
the  lips  of  prophets;  hut  now  it  was  enjoined  by  the 
incarnation  of  love.  As  received  of  old,  it  was 
found  in  the  vicinity  of  other  statutes,  which  cast  a 
shadow  over  it,  for  they  spoke  of  the  sv/ord,  of  the 
stern  execution  of  law,  and  of  some  nations  doomed 
to  extinction,  and  of  others  which  could  never  he 
naturalised  in  the  Hebrew  commonwealth.  But 
now  the  command  is  freed  from  all  such  neighbour- 
hood, from  all  that  might  modity  its  power,  or  im- 
pede its  results.  For  the  church  is  not  confined  to 
one  nation,  but  receives  its  members  out  of  everj^ 
tribe;  and  her  brotherhood  is  not  broken  by  dif- 
ference of  rank  or  colour,  of  language  or  social 
position. 

ISTeed  we  add  that  it  is  new  in  the  example  by 
which  it  is  enforced  —  *  as  I  have  loved  you.'  Such 
a  model  almost  deters  us  from  attempting  to  com- 
ply. Can  we  come  up  to  Christ's  practice  ?  Can 
that  heart  of  ours,  in  which  love  is  an  implanted 
and  not  an  original  afiection,  ever  resemble  that 
heart  where  love  had  ever  dwelt  ? 

*  As  I  have  loved  you.'  As  if  He  had  said,  recall 
your  past  intercourse  with  Me,  and  summon  u]d  to 
your  memory  the  numerous  proofs  of  My  attach- 
ment to  you.  When  I  first  called  you,  how  I  bore 
with  your  reluctance,  and  yet  loved  you.  When 
3'ou  interposed  so  ignorantly  and  cruelly  between 


THE   NEW   COMMANDMENT.  259 

Me  and  the  little  cliildren,  between  Me  and  the 
Syrophenician  women,  I  did  not  disband  you. 
When  some  of  you  tried  to  expel  the  demon  and 
failed,  I  did  not  throw  you  from  Me  as  disgracing 
3'our  functions,  and  for  ever  disqualified  from  exer- 
cising them.  AVhen  Peter's  forwardness  and  his 
rash  sayings  provoked  Me,  and  the  ambition  of  the 
sons  of  Zebedee  chagrined  Me ;  when  the  moodiness 
of  Thomas  grieved  Me,  and  the  treachery  of  Judas 
was  apparent  to  Me,  I  did  not  exclude  them  from 
the  list  of  apostles.  When  all  of  you  misunderstood 
My  parables,  as  your  subsequent  questions  so  often 
indicated ;  when  you  saw  not  the  purpose  of  My 
miracles,  and  failed  in  your  conceptions  of  the  end 
of  My  mission,  I  did  not  depose  you,  and  summon 
others  to  succeed  you.  When  there  arose  the  strife 
among  you  which  should  be  the  greatest,  that  recent 
outburst  of  selfish  ambition  has  not  quenched  My 
love  for  you,  or  prompted  Me  to  blast  all  your  an- 
ticipations. Bear  with  one  another,  as  I  have  borne 
wdth  you.  Let  3'our  love  to  one  another  be  as  Mine 
to  you  —  too  ardent  to  be  cooled,  too  tenacious  to 
be  severed;  like  Mine,  let  it  be  unaltered  amidst 
changes,  unshaken  by  disappointments,  and  unex- 
tinguished by  the  occasional  coldness  it  may  meet, 
and  even  by  the  hostility  which  its  ardour  and 
honesty  may  happen  to  provoke. 

'As  I  have  loved  you.'  Such  love  as  His  was  a 
novelty,  and  therefore  the  injunction  that  was  at 
once  prompted  by  it  and  illustrated  in  it  was  cer- 
tainly 'a  new  commandment.'     The  essence  of  the 


260  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

second  table  of  the  law  was  love ;  but  that  love  was 
inculcated  in  prohibitions  of  injury  to  our  neigh- 
bour, and  the  code  was  published  amidst  'black- 
.ness,  and  darkness,  and  tempest;'  but  now  the 
ruling  motive  of  conduct  has  been  placed  in  the 
fulness  of  light.  For  as  the  Master  said,  ^I  have 
loved  you,'  there  lay  on  the  table  before  Him  the 
fragments  of  a  feast  designed  to  set  out  and  com-^ 
memorate  a  love  the  noblest  and  tenderest  the  world 
had  ever  seen. 

^As  I  have  loved  you:'  and  do  you  ask  what  is 
meant,  or  what  measure  of  love  is  requisite  ?  Had 
he  not  said  but  a  few  minutes  ago,  '  This  is  my  body 
broken  for  you  ?'  and  over  that  cup  that  so  lately 
passed  round,  did  He  not  utter  these  awful  words, 
'  This  cup  is  the  'New  Testament  in  my  blood,  shed 
for  remission  of  sins  unto  many.' 

^As  I  have  loved  you'  —  is  not  this  declaration 
still  set  before  us  as  our  model  ?  Such  love,  pure, 
unselfish,  and  ready  to  deny  itself — such  love  as 
brought  Him  down,  'not  to  be  ministered  unto, 
but  to  minister' — such  love  as  prompted  Him  to 
endure  the  cross,  '  despising  the  shame' —  such  love 
as  still  sustains  His  uplifted  arm  w4iile  He  pleads  — 
the  image  of  this  love  ought  to  characterise  our  love 
to  the  brethren.  But  such  love  as  His  was  '  a  new 
thing  in  the  earth,'  and  therefore  the  commandment 
based  upon  it  and  exemplified  in  it  was  '  a  new^  com- 
mandment.' 

Besides  one  of  the  ends  our  Lord  had  in  view 
was  indeed  till  then  unheard  of:  'By  this  shall  all 


THE   NEW   COMMANDMENT.  261 

men  know  that  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  have  love 
one  to  another.'  Discipleship  had  been  evinced  in 
various  shapes,  and  discovered  by  numerous  tests. 
But  no  *  master'  ever  dreamed  of  imposing  such  an 
obligation,  and  creating  b}-  it  such  a  characteristic. 
The  scholars  of  the  Academy,  the  Portico,  or  the 
Lyceum  were  at  once  known  by  their  modes  of  rea- 
soning, their  attachment  to  distinctive  theories,  and 
their  frequent  appeals  to  Plato,  Zeno,  or  Aristotle. 
The  Jew  was  recognised  by  his  dress  and  language, 
his  reverence  for  Moses,  his  selection  among  meats 
and  drinks,  and  his  antipathy  to  all  the  races  of  the 
TJncircumcision.  If  yon  entered  a  company  of 
Greeks,  and  found  them  theorising  upon  pleasure, 
its  nature,  enjoyment,  and  modes,  you  would  at 
once  pronounce  them  to  be  Epicureans  ;  or  if,  mix- 
ing with  another  crowd,  you  were  met  with  such 
sounds  as  fate,  liberty,  necessity,  wisdom,  and  chief 
good,  you  would  feel  in  a  moment  that  you  were 
among  the  Stoics.  Did  you,  in  any  city  of  Judea, 
see  a  man  clothed  with  a  robe  deeper  than  common, 
and  adorned  with  a  phylactery  of  unusual  breadth 
—  did  you  follow  him,  and  hear  him  pray  with  a 
stentorian  voice  to  attract  all  passers  by,  or  see  him 
give  alms  so  ostentatiously  as  to  draw  upon  him  the 
public  gaze  and  admiration,  you  would  have  no 
doubt  that  you  beheld  a  Pharisee.  And  if,  on  the 
streets  of  Jerusalem,  you  met  with  one  in  whose 
dress  the  prominent  portions  of  the  national  uni- 
form were  carefully  pared  down,  who,  as  he  passed 
with  you   near  the  temple,  observed  with  a  quiet 


262  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

sneer  that  the  scent  of  the  burning  sacrifice  tainted 
the  air,  or  who,  as  he  looked  on  the  place  of  sepul- 
chres, assumed  a  philosophic  air  and  spoke  of  death 
as  the  debt  of  nature,  as  a  hard  and  universal  ne- 
cessity; smiled  at  the  idea  of  a  spirit-land,  and 
hinted  that  the  prevailing  belief  on  that  point  was 
not  consonant  to  reason,  or  based  on  a  rational  in- 
terpretation of  scripture  —  you  would  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  detecting  the  speaker  to  be  a  Sadducee. 
But  our  Lord  discards  what  is  external;  and  His 
followers  are  to  be  known  not  by  dress,  language, 
or  occupation,  but  by  the  mutual  kindness  which 
they  cherished  and  exercised  toward  one  another. 
They  were  to  be  known  not  by  mind,  but  by  heart 
—  not  by  intellect,  but  by  soul. 

How,  then,  should  such  love  prove  and  glorify 
their  Christianity  ?  In  this  way.  Love  had  never 
so  belonged  to  any  system.  There  might  have  been 
selfish  attachments,  but  there  was  no  genuine  affec- 
tion. Christ,  however,  came  into  the  world  to  teach 
and  illustrate  love.  Love  is  the  very  genius  of  his 
system.  All  its  doctrines  lead  to  love  as  their  centre, 
and  all  its  duties  depend  upon  it  for  their  fulfilment. 
Love  is  the  essence  of  all  its  promises,  and  the  lustre 
of  all  its  hopes.  It  teaches  that  love  to  Jesus  should 
fill  the  heart,  and  that  the  entire  life  should  be 
swayed  and  consecrated  by  its  influence.  In  imita- 
tion of  the  God  of  Love,  it  inculcates  love  to  every 
living  thing,  and  a  special  attachment  toward  all 
that  bear  His  likeness.  He  who  loved  us  and  gave 
Himself  for  us,  is  the  model  we  are  summoned  to 


THE  NEW   COMMANDMENT.  263 

copy  in  all  our  words  and  deeds.  Love  of  the 
purest,  fullest,  and  most  disinterested  nature  is  en- 
joined upon  His  disciples,  and  is  to  be  uniformly 
exemplified  by  them. 

*  He  prayeth  best  who  loveth  best 

All  things,  both  great  and  small  ; 
For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 
He  made  and  loveth  all/ 

Kow,  if  men  see  such  love,  and  observe  its  un- 
selfish nature  —  if  they  witness  its  self-denial  and 
nobleness,  overleaping  all  conventionalities,  and 
laying  low  every  barrier  which  pride  so  often  erects, 
and  surviving  also  those  shocks  and  trials  which 
convert  common  affection  into  enmity  or  jealous 
rivalry,  then  they  must  feel  that  it  is  an  uncommon 
and  unearthly  principle ;  and  as  it  exists  only 
among  persons  of  a  certain  creed,  they  at  once 
'  take  knowledge  of  them  that  they  have  been  with 
Jesus.'  No  other  system  breathed  such  a  spirit. 
The  Greek  sneered  at  all  the  world  beyond  himself 
as  barbarian,  and  the  Jew  scowled  upon  it  as  un- 
circumcised.  In  Eome  the  word  denoting  a  stranger 
meant  also  an  enemy ;  and  the  classic  tongues  have 
no  term  to  signify  those  erections  where  the  sick 
and  aged  are  sheltered  and  healed.  In  the  eye  of 
law,  the  slave  was  a  thing;  but  the  gospel  made 
him  a  brother,  and  more  than  a  brother.  Creed  is 
not  enough,  for  there  may  be  a  dead  orthodox}^; 
but  this  warm  love,  an  image  of  His  own,  is  the 
test  of  discipleship.     Alas  that  it  should  be  so 


264  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

feebly  manifested,  and  that  we  should  so  seldom 
make  '  full  proof  of  our  discipleship  !  The  world 
may  not  be  inclined  to  study  books  on  the  Evi- 
dences; it  may  not  busy  itself  in  analysing  the 
reality  of  miracles,  or  proving  the  fulfilment  of  pro- 
phecy ;  but  here  is  a  proof  which  commands  atten- 
tion, while  no  profound  scrutiny  is  needed  to  detect 
it,  and  no  earnest  logic  to  reach  its  resistless  con- 
clusion—  'hereby  shall  all  men  know  that  ye  are 
my  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  another.' 

But  there  is  another  reason  why  such  brother-love 
should  characterise  us,  and  that  is,  the  enmity  of 
the  world  round  about  us.  "We  are  thus  led  to  con- 
template— 

III.    THE    NECESSITY    AND    GROWTH    OF    LOVE    IN    THE    MIDST    OF 
PERSECUTION. 

'This  is  my  commandment,  That  ye  love  one  another,  as  I 
have  loved  you.  .  .  .  These  things  I  command  you,  that  ye 
love  one  another.  If  the  world  hate  you,  ye  know  that  it  hated 
me  before  it  hated  you.' — John  xv.  12,  17,  18. 

The  Lord  here  repeats  His  injunction.  He  had 
made  them  all  His  friends,  and  in  being  His  friends 
they  were  to  be  mutual  friends.  The  maguet  that 
drew  them  to  Himself,  did,  by  the  same  process, 
attract  them  to  one  another.  The  nearer  they  came 
to  Him,  the  nearer  they  came  to  one  another.  But 
they  were  left  in  a  world  of  hostility — a  world  that 
loathed  them,  scorned  them,  and  scrupled  not  to 
shed  their  blood.  If  such  rancour  reigned  around 
them,  there  was  surely  all  the   more   reason  why 


LOVE  AMIDST  PERSECUTION.         265 

among  themselves  they  should  '  walk  in  love.'  A 
small  army  in  an  enemy's  country  clings  tenaciously 
together.  The  little  company  exposed  to  persecu- 
tion should  comfort  one  another,  and  put  on  that 
'  love  which  is  the  bond  of  pcrfectness.'  Love  in 
the  midst  of  themselves  Avould  be  productive  of 
peace  and  joy,  would  be  a  holy  fire  which  the  ad- 
verse winds  could  not  extinguish,  but  only  fan  into 
a  flame.  Such  love  was  to  be  as  a  family  feeling, 
which  becomes  the  stronger  the  more  the  family 
interests  are  threatened  by  external  opposition. 
The  world  may  bite  and  devour  —  there  may  be  in 
it  envying  and  strife,  confusion  and  every  evil  work 

—  it  may  be  marked  by  its  fierce  competitions, 
springing  from  its  motto  that  there  is  no  friendship 
in  trade ;  but  surely  in  the  church,  the  law  of  kind- 
ness should  be  devoutly  and  universally  recognised 

—  its  members  not  only  'forbearing  one  another 
and  forgiving  one  another'  in  love,  but  striving  for 
one  another's  welfare,  'in  honour  preferring  one' 
anotner,'  ready  to  lay  down  their  lives  for  the  bre- 
thren, as  Christ  laid  down  His  for  them,  and  exem- 
plifying in  their  practice  their  belief  in  the  state- 
ment, '  iSrow  abideth  faith,  hope,  love,  these  three ; 
but  the  greatest  of  these  is  love.' 

But  brother-love  is  not  only  an  evidence  of  dis- 
cipleship  to  the  world,  it  is  also — 


23 


266  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 


IV.    THE    CONSCIOUS    TEST    OF    A    SAVING    CHANGE    TO    OURSELVES. 

*  We  know  that  we  have  passed  from  death  unto  life,  because 
we  love  the  brethren :  he  that  loveih  not  his  brother  abideth  in 
death/ — 1  John  iii.  14. 

To  pass  from  death  to  life — how  momentous  and 
necessary  the  change!  —  to  pass  from  gloom  and 
sorrow,  insensibility  and  wrath,  to  light,  health,  ac- 
tivity, and  blessedness.  It  is  a  change  which  divine 
power  and  love  alone  can  eiFect.  The  ear  of  death 
wakes  up  to  no  voice  but  that  of  God.  What  joy 
to  be  warranted  in  saying,  'we  live.'  Xow,  the 
apostle  proposes  a  test  of  the  reality  of  this  life. 
We  know  it,  *  because  we  love  the  brethren.'  This 
is  no  ambiguous  declaration  or  criterion.  And  it 
is  a  sure  one.  These  brethren  bear  the  image  of 
Christ ;  and  only  in  so  far  as  they  bear  that  image, 
can  we  recognise  them  as  brethren.  Our  love  to 
them  is  but  another  form  of  love  to  Christ;  and 
there  can  be  no  love  to  Christ  where  His  salvation 
is  not  enjoyed.  Faith  is  the  means  of  life,  and  love 
exists  as  the  result  of  saving  faith.  There  can  be 
no  capability  of  love  without  the  quickening  power 
of  such  faith.  For  the  human  heart  has  by  nature 
no  attachment  to  the  beauty  of  holiness.  It  finds 
no  attraction  in  it.  It  does  not  appreciate  spirit- 
uality of  character.  Therefore,  not  until  it  feel  the 
influence  of  Divine  Love  upon  itself,  can  it  be  drawn 
toward  the  results  of  that  love  in  others.  But  it 
will  be  so  drawn,  as  soon  as  it  is  conscious  of  '  the 
love  of  God  shed  abroad'  within  it.     If,  then,  it  pass 


THE   CHRISTIAN   POOR   LAW.  267 

out  of  a  state  of  enmity  or  indifference  into  that  of 
love,  it  knows  that  it  has  '  passed  from  death  unto 
life.'  So  that  if  you  do  not  love  Christ's  image  in 
a  brother,  nor  hail  as  a  brother  him  in  whose  bosom 
that  image  is  enshrined,  you  are  yet  in  death,  '  as 
Cain,  who  was  of  that  wicked  one.'  *  He  that  loveth 
not  his  brother  abideth  in  death.'  Hatred  is  the 
nurse  of  murder,  and  '  no  murderer  hath  eternal  life 
abiding  in  him.'  The  loveless  heart  is  at  once  a 
faithless  and  a  lifeless  heart. 

And  among  the  results  of  this  brother-love  there 
is  one  form  which  occupies  a  prominent  place,  and 
that  is  love  to  the  poorer  brethren,  leading  us  to 
sympathise  with  them  and  to  relieve  them.  So  that 
this  love  is — 

V.    THE    BASIS   OF    THE    CHRISTIAN    POOR    LAW. 

*  But  whoso  hath  this  world's  good,  and  seeth  his  brother  have 
need,  and  shutteth  up  his  bowels  of  compassion  from  him,  how 
dwelleth  the  love  of  God  in  him  V — 1  Johx  iii.  17. 

The  gospel  does  not  produce  uniformity  of  social 
condition.  '  The  poor  have  ye  always  with  you.' 
Some  ride  in  chariots,  and  some  are  humble  pe- 
destrians. Some  have  abundance,  others  are  denied 
it.  Some  have  increasing  stores,  and  others,  with 
the  utmost  frugality,  are  still  touching  the  verge  of 
poverty  and  debt.  But  this  inequality  is  the  means, 
under  God,  of  developing  the  choicest  of  the  Chris- 
tian virtues.  "Were  all  rich,  there  would  be  no  room 
for  Christian  benevolence  ;  were  all  happy  and  pros- 
perous, there  would  be  no  space  nor  call  for  Chris- 


268  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

tian  sympathy.  Were  there  no  brethren  in  need, 
we  should  be  denied  the  luxury  of  doing  good.  If 
there  were  no  distress,  *  pure  religion  and  undefiled' 
would  never  be  fully  exhibited.  ISTor  could  we  copy 
Christ's  example  in  many  of  its  noblest  features,  or 
drink  into  the  spirit  of  His  work,  if  the  church  did 
not  present  such  opportunities.  Therefore  the  fair- 
est graces  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  noblest  and 
loveliest  adornments  of  the  Christian  character, 
would  never  be  seen,  but  for  the  inequalities  and 
hardships  of  social  life  within  the  pale  of  the  church. 
Homa2:e  to  the  absent  Christ  in  His  members  would 
also  be  impossible,  if  there  were  no  prison  with  its 
inmates,  and  no  sick-bed  with  its  sufferers.  No 
wonder  that  love  takes  this  form,  and  rejoices  in  it. 
In  doing  good  to  the  needy,  it  imitates  Him  who 
came  into  the  world  to  serve.  It  pictures  Him  girt 
with  the  towel,  and  in  the  act  of  stooping  to  the 
basin  and  washing  the  disciples'  feet.  It  tastes  the 
blessedness  of  giving.  It  does  not  deal  in  cheap 
commiseration :  '  If  a  brother  or  sister  be  naked, 
and  destitute  of  daily  food,  and  one  of  you  say  unto 
them,  Depart  in  peace,  be  ye  warmed  and  filled; 
notwithstanding  ye  give  them  not  those  things 
which  are  needful  to  the  body,  what  doth  it  profit?' 
The  Christian  heart  will  be  thankful  for  the  oppor- 
tunity of  imparting  relief  to  a  Christian  brother, 
and  proving  itself  a  faithful  steward  :  '  Is  it  not  to 
deal  thy  bread  to  the  hungry,  and  that  thou  bring 
the  poor  that  are  cast  out  to  thy  house  ?  when  thou 
seest  the  naked,  that  thou  cover  him ;  and  that  thou 


THE   CHRISTIAN   POOR   LAW.  269 

hide  not  thyself  from  thine  own  flesh  ?'  In  open- 
ing itself  to  distress,  it  feeds  itself  with  sublime  en- 
joyment: *And  if  thou  draw  out  thy  soul  to  the 
hungry,  and  satisfy  the  afflicted  soul ;  then  shall  thy 
light  rise  in  obscurity,  and  thy  darkness  be  as  the 
noon-day ;  and  the  Lord  shall  guide  thee  continu- 
ally, and  satisfy  thy  soul  in  drought,  and  make  fat 
thy  bones  :  and  thou  shalt  be  like  a  watered  garden, 
and  like  a  spring  of  water,  whose  waters  fail  not.' 

But,  specially,  it  is  glad  in  this  accredited  way  to 
manifest  its  love  to  Christ;  for  He  and  His  are 
identified.  It  is  in  this  spirit  that  relief  should  be 
oftered  or  beneficence  conferred,  so  as  to  receive  the 
commendation,  '  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto 
one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye  have  done 
it  unto  me.'  ^Me,'  said  He,"  *ye  have  not  always.' 
But  He  never  wants  representatives  ;  and  this  love 
to  Him  through  them,  is  so  pleasing  to  Jesus,  that 
on  the  day  of  judgment  He  shall  openly  refer  to  it, 
as  if  to  vindicate  His  sentence  of  acceptance  by  it, 
or  as  if  it  were  the  highest  proof  of  the  power  of 
faith,  and  of  the  reality  of  their  salvation.  '  Then 
shall  the  King  say  unto  them  on  his  right  hand, 
Come,  ye  blessed  of  m}-  Father,  inherit  the  king- 
dom prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the 
world:  for  I  was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave  me 
meat ;  I  was  thirsty,  and  ye  gave  me  drink ;  I  was 
a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in ;  naked,  and  ye 
clothed  me ;  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me ;  I  was 
in  prison,  and  ye  came  unto  me.  Then  shall  the 
righteous  answer  him,  saying,  Lord,  when  saw  we 
23* 


270  ^  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

thee  an  hungered,  and  fed  thee  ?  or  thirsty,  and 
gave  thee  drink?  When  saw  we  thee  a  stranger, 
and  took  thee  in  ?  or  naked,  and  clothed  thee  ?  Or 
w^hen  saw  we  thee  sick,  or  in  prison,  and  came  unto 
thee  ?  And  the  Xing  shall  answer  and  say  unto 
them.  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  Inasmuch  as  ye  have 
done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren, 
ye  have  done  it  unto  me.'  And  thus  we  find  the 
church  in  Antioch,  when  a  famine  had  been  pre- 
dicted, resolving  at  once  'to  send  relief  unto  the 
brethren  which  dwelt  in  Judea.'  '  Let  us  not  love 
in  word,  neither  in  tongue,  but  in  deed  and  in 
truth.'  We  do  not  further  pursue  these  sentiments 
of  the  beloved  disciple,  who  rejoiced  to  his  dying 
day  in  exhorting  the  members  of  the  church  to 
love  one  another,  and  who  was  privileged  especially 
to  make  the  sublime  announcement  that  '  God  is 
Love.' 

Again,  all  who  love  Christ  will  rejoice  in  holding 
fellow^ship  with  Him.  Therefore  it  is  that  they 
have  special  attachment  to  the  'Law,  the  Prophets, 
and  the  Psalms,'  which  are  so  full  of  Him.  So 
that  love  to  Christ  is  indicated  by  — 

VI.    LOVE    TO    THE    BIBLE. 

'And  they  are  they  which  testify  of  me.'  —  John  v.  29. 

All  who  love  another,  and  who  love  Christ,  also 
*  His  appearance  and  coming.'  'Amen.  So  come,' 
is  the  language  of  their  hearts.  On  this  account 
they  cherish  the  book  which  contains  the  promise 
of  his  advent,  and  often  have  recourse  to  it  as  a 


LOVE   TO    THE    I5IBLE.  271 

communication  from  Himself.  In  and  by  the  Bible 
they  hold  correspondence  with  Jesus.  They  meet 
Him  in  it  —  Him  who  is  the  great  promise  of  the 
Old  Testament,  and  the  great  fact  of  the  ^N'ew. 
There  is  indeed  much  about  the  book  to  interest 
them,  but  its  Christ  is  the  principal  attraction. 
There  they  see  Him  in  His  love  —  there  they  hear 
His  words,  and  behold  His  wondrous  deeds.  They 
can  there  bend  over  His  cradle,  and  kneel  by  His 
cross — sail  with  Him  on  the  lake,  and  journey  with 
Him  on  His  errands  of  mercy.  The  N'ew  Testa- 
ment, therefore,  has  exercised  a  supremacy  of  love 
in  the  church.  It  consists  of  only  two  modes  of 
composition  —  telling  a  story  and  writing  a  letter. 
But  the  book  is  immortal,  for  believers  love  it,  and 
will  not  let  it  die.  And  they  have  felt  its  influence 
in  a  variety  of  forms. 

For  no  volume  ever  commanded  such  a  profusion 
of  readers,  or  has  been  translated  into  so  many 
languages.  Such  is  the  universahty  of  its  spirit, 
that  no  book  loses  less  by  translation  —  none  has 
been  so  frequently  copied  in  manuscript,  and  none 
so  often  printed.  King  and  noble,  peasant  and 
pauper,  are  delighted  students  of  its  pages.  Phi- 
losophers have  humbly  gleaned  from  it,  and  legisla- 
tion has  been  thankfully  indebted  to  it.  Its  stories 
charm  the  child,  its  hopes  inspirit  the  aged,  and  its 
promises  soothe  the  bed  of  death.  The  maiden  is 
w^edded  under  its  sanction,  and  the  grave  is  closed 
under  its  comforting  assurances.  Its  lessons  are, 
the  essence  of  religion,  the  seminal  truths  of  theol- 


272  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

ogy,  tlie  first  principles  of  morals,  and  the  guiding 
axioms  of  political  economy.     Martyrs  have  often 
bled  and  been  burnt  for  attachment  to  it.     It  is  the 
theme  of  universal  appeal.     In  the  entire  range  of 
literature,  no  book  is  so  frequently  quoted  or  refer- 
red to.     The  majority  of  all  the  books  ever  pub- 
lished have  been  in  connection  with  it.    The  Fathers 
commented  upon  it,  and  the  subtle  divines  of  the 
middle  ages  refined  upon  its  doctrines.     It  sustained 
Origen's  scholarship  and  Chrysostom's  rhetoric.     It 
whetted  the  penetration  of  Abelard,  and  exercised 
the  keen  ingenuity  of  Aquinas.     It  gave  life  to  the 
revival  of  letters,  and  Dante  and  Petrarch  revelled 
in  its  imagery.     It  augmented  the  erudition  of  Eras- 
mus, and  roused  and  blessed  the  intrepidity  of  Lu- 
ther.    Its  temples  are  the  finest  specimens  of  archi- 
tecture, and  the  brightest  triumphs  of  music  are  as- 
sociated with  its  poetry.      The  text  of  no  ancient 
author  has  summoned  into  operation  such  an  amount 
of  labour  and  learning,  and  it  has  furnished  occa- 
sion for  the  most  masterly  examples  of  criticism 
and  comment,  grammatical  investigation,  and  logi- 
cal analysis.     It  has  also  inspired  the  English  muse 
with  her  loftiest  strains.     Its  beams  gladdened  Mil- 
ton in  his  darkness,  and  cheered  the  song  of  Cow- 
per  in  his  sadness.     It  was  the  star  which  guided 
Columbus  to  the  discover}^  of  the  new  world.     It 
furnished  the  panoply  of  that  Puritan  valour  which 
shivered  tyranny  in  days  gone  by.     It  is  the  magna 
charta  of  the  world's  regeneration  and  liberties. 
The  records  of  false  religion,  from  the  Koran  to  the 


THE    WALK   OF   LOVE.  273 

Book  of  Mormon,  have  owned  its  superiority,  and 
surreptitiously  purloined  its  jewels.  Among  the 
Christian  classics  it  loaded  the  treasures  of  Owen, 
charged  the  fulness  of  Hooker,  barhed  the  point  of 
Baxter,  gave  colours  to  the  palette  and  sweep  to 
the  pencil  of  Bunyan,  enriched  the  fragrant  fancy 
of  Taylor,  sustained  the  loftiness  of  Howe,  and 
strung  the  plummet  of  Edwards.  In  short,  this 
collection  of  artless  lives  and  letters  has  changed 
the  face  of  the  world,  and  ennobled  myriads  of  its 
population. 

May  we  not,  then,  sum  up  these  various  precepts, 
and  say  with  the  apostle  — 

VII.    '  WALK    IN    LOA^E  V 

Eph.  y.  2. 

Yes,  'Walk  in  love.'  ITot  simply,  pray  in  love,  or 
*  keep  the  feast'  in  love ;  not  simpty,  hold  the  doc- 
trine of  the  communion  of  the  saints  in  love,  or 
give  relief  to  the  poorer  brethren  in  love ;  but 
'Walk  in  love.'  Every, step  is  to  be  one  of  love. 
The  whole  tenor  and  course  of  life  are  to  be  char- 
acterised by  love — not  only  on  the  Sabbath,  but  on 
every  day ;  not  only  in  the  sanctuary,  but  in  the 
house,  the  w^orkshop,  the  counting-room,  and  the 
exchano^e.  Love  is  to  rei2:n,  not  onlv  in  the  Ian- 
guage  of  congratulation,  but  also  in  that  of  reproof; 
and  to  hold  its  sway,  not  merely  when  Christians 
meet  in  the  oratory,  but  when  they  oft'er  one  another 
civilities  on  the  streets.  ISTor  is  it  suddenly  to  for- 
sake them  when  they  are  making  a  bargain,  and 


274  THE    DIVmE    LOVE. 

each  is  looking  for  liis  own  profit  by  tbe  transac- 
tion. Are  you  injured?  Love  forbids  you  to  re- 
taliate. You  might  perhaps  derive  from  some  busi- 
ness considerable  advantage,  and  yet  keep  within 
the  limits  of  commercial  usage,  though  you  certain- 
ly would  go  beyond  the  bounds  of  Christian  equity, 
—  then  love  interdicts  you.  It  may  be  that  one 
who  has  done  you  some  harm  has  come  into  your 
power,  and  you  could  easily  and  safely  let  him  feel 
your  memory  of  his  past  offence  :  love  '  worketh  no 
ill  to  his  neighbour,'  but  bids  you  *  heap  coals  of 
fire  upon  his  head.'  Is  there  any  one  whom  you 
could  oblige  and  benefit  without  being  under  any 
formal  or  legal  obligation  to  do  so  ?  Love  requires 
you  to  'do  good,'  as  you  have  opportunity.  Per- 
haps there  is  another  in  whom  you  do  not  feel  a 
very  great  interest,  but  in  some  moment  when  you 
might  be  of  service  to  him,  and  direct  him  to  some 
useful  opening  in  life,  love  will  keep  your  tongue 
from  justifying  your  indifference,  and  saying,  'Am 
I  my  brother's  keeper. 

'  Walk  in  love.'  Were  this  walk  of  love  to  be 
always  trodden,  how  very  soon  would  ecclesiastical 
and  civil  discords  cease.  Were  nations  to  observe 
this  precept,  there  would  speedily  come  to  an  end 
all  forms  of  selfish  monopoly  and  tariff";  all  attempts 
to  convert  might  into  right,  and  to  enforce  an  am- 
bitious and  grasping  policy  by  the  cannon  and  the 
sword.  Love  would  far  outweigh  diplomacy.  Were 
churches  to  remember  this  injunction,  alienation 
because  of  differences  in  ritual  and  government 


THE   WALK    OF   LOVE.  275 

would  disappear,  truth  would  be  spokeu  in  love,  the 
jagon  of  sectarianism  would  never  be  heard,  and 
catholicity  and  conscientiousness  would  not  only  co- 
exist, but  coalesce.  And  if  individuals  were  to 
keep  the  Christian  statute  in  their  hearts,  no  little 
animosity  and  misunderstanding  would  be  avoided. 
But  how  often  has  the  'dead  fly'  fallen  into  the 
apothecary's  ointment.  One  drop  of  the  'gall  of 
bitterness'  has  an  infinitesimal  power  of  self-diflu- 
sion ;  for  they  who  taste  it,  and  they  who  behold 
the  result,  are  alike  under  temptation  to  forget 
themselves.  It  is  a  strange  thing  that  any  rational 
mind  should  be  guilty  of  this  'little  folly,'  w^hich 
in  so  many  forms  frets  itself  and  embroils  others  — 
either  haunted  by  the  suspicion  that  it  is  slighted  or 
overlooked,  and  for  ever  guarding  itself  against  the 
baseless  fancy  by  hard  and  rash  accusations  of  others, 
or  set  on  edge  by  the  slightest  occurrence,  and  in- 
geniously construing  accident  into  design  —  claim- 
ing independence  of  speech,  yet  hurt  and  ruffled 
into  surly  displeasure  should  others  speak  and  act 
under  the  very  same  plea — utterly  regardless  of 
the  annoyance  it  causes  to  others,  or  the  obstacles 
it  raises  to  Christian  fellowship  —  loving,  above  all 
things,  to  utter  a  truth  which  may  be  distasteful  to 
others,  and  yet  annoyed  beyond  measure  when  any 
truth  is  spoken  distasteful  to  itself — stiff  and  un- 
yielding, not  in  defence  of  principle,  but  only  in 
obedience  to  its  own  inherent  and  unreasonable  ob- 
stinacy —  mistaking  narrow-mindedness  for  fidelity, 
and  baptizing  its  censorious  surmises  by  the  sacred 


276  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

title  of  conscientiousness  or  rectitude.  Such  infir- 
mities of  temper  are  all  of  them  deviations  from 
this  path  of  love.  iSTo  apology  can  vindicate  them 
either  in  church  or  market.  It  is  a  shame  for  any 
disciple  of  the  religion  of  love  either,  on  the  one 
hand,  to  be  thrown  off  his  balance  by  a  fit  of  indig- 
nation, or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  cherish  a  grudge, 
and  to  feed  it  against  any  one  who  may  have  given 
him  offence.  The  prayer  of  Eobert  Hall  in  a  mo- 
ment of  provocation  was  a  very  fitting  one  :  '  Lamb 
of  God ;  Lamb  of  God,  calm  my  perturbed  spirit.' 
'  Slow  to  speak,  slow  to  wrath,'  is  a  maxim  of  pru- 
dence and  inspiration.  The  Master,  'when  he  was 
reviled,  reviled  not  again  ;  when  suffering,  he  threat- 
ened not.'  There  is  nothing  so  remote  from  Christ's 
example  as  a  hard  and  uncharitable  disposition. 

'  Walk  in  love.'  There  are  no  thorns  in  the  path, 
but  all  deviations  from  it  lead  into  thickets  of  dis- 
tress, and  the  transgressor  lacerates  his  own  feet 
with  briars  and  thistles.  He  grieves  others,  and,  in 
proportion  to  the  tenderness  of  his  conscience,  he 
is  a  plague  and  sorrow  to  himself.  '  Walk  in  love,' 
and  you  induce  others  to  tread  in  your  steps.  But 
all  such  loveless  and  repulsive  features  of  character 
do  not  and  cannot  commend  the  gospel  around  you. 

'Walk  in  love.'  It  is  'the  more  excellent  way,' 
for  it  leads  to  perfection.  Were  the  path  fully  re- 
cognised and  entered  on  by  professing  Christians, 
and  were  those  around  them  again  to  be  urged  to 
exclaim,  '  See  these  Christians  how  they  love  one 
another,'  we  might  safely  hail  such  a  period  as  the 


THE   WALK   OF    LOVE.  277 

dawn  of  the  world's  jubilee.  Let  ns,  therefore, 
commend  the  grace  of  Christian  love.  '  The  fruit 
of  the  Spirit  is  love.'  Ought  not  Himself  to  be 
loved,  as  He  is  '  altogether  lovely  ?'  and  should  not 
His  hold  a  place  in  our  heart  of  hearts  ?  O  if  we 
or  our  churches  were  to  meet  'with  one  accord,'  as 
on  the  morning  of  Pentecost,  and  present  our  uni- 
ted supplications  for  reviving  influence,  its  effusion 
would  develop  our  mutual  affinities,  and  bring  us 
into  sympathetic  contact  and  final  unity.  Men 
have  struggled  for  the  faith — let  them  now  contend 
for  love.  With  a  pure  theology,  let  us  have  a  warm 
and  outflowing  rehgion.  Loving  Him  who  begat, 
let  us  love  'him  that  is  begotten.'  'Above  all 
things,'  says  an  apostle, '  have  fervent  charity  among 
yourselves.'  Let  prejudice  be  charmed  away  by 
calm  and  dignified  appeal.  Let  there  be  a  constant 
desire  to  accommodate.  'See  that  ye  fall  not  out 
by  the  way,'  is  an  admonition  as  appropriate  in  our 
days  as  in  those  of  Joseph.  Let  the  spirit  of  mu- 
tual condescension  pervade  our  every  arrangement. 
No  one  is  to  deem  his  opinion  infallible,  or  his  char- 
acter in  all  respects  invulnerable.  Again,  Jesus  is 
our  model.  At  the  last  supper,  he  was  among  his 
disciples  '  as  one  that  serveth  ;'  and  he  taught  them 
the  nature  and  spirit  of  that  service  of  love  which 
they  ought  ever  to  render  to  one  another :  '  So, 
after  he  had  washed  their  feet,  and  had  taken  his 
garments,  and  was  set  down  again,  he  said  unto 
them.  Know  ye  what  I  have  done  to  you  ?  Ye  call 
me  Master  and  Lord :  and  ye  say  well ;  for  so  I  am. 
24 


278  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

If  I  then,  your  Lord  and  Master,  have  Avashed  your 
feet,  ye  also  ought  to  wash  one  another's  feet.  For 
I  have  given  you  an  example,  that  ye  should  do  as 
I  have  done  to  you.  Yerily,  verily  I  say  unto  you, 
The  servant  is  not  greater  than  his  lord ;  neither  he 
that  is  sent  greater  than  he  that  sent  him.  If  ye 
know  these  things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them.' 

And  now,  perhaps,  we  are  able  to  understand  the 
apostle's  statement  when  he  says,  '  The  greatest  of 
these  is  charity.'  Let  us,  then,  in  conclusion,  try 
and  enter  into  the  spirit  of — 

VIII.    THE  apostle's  ADJUDICATION  AMONG  THE  GRACES. 

'And  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  charity,  these  three  ;  but  the 
greatest  of  these  is  charity.' — 1  Cor.  xiii.  13. 

The  apostle  in  this  chapter  proves  the  superiority 
of  love  by  two  comparisons.  He  compares  it  first 
wdth  the  miraculous  endowments  of  the  primitive 
age,  and  his  conclusion  is,  that  they  shall  disappear, 
but  love  shall  survive,  and  always  keep  its  place  in 
the  church.  The  gifts  of  the  early  church  were  of 
a  bright  and  dazzling  order  —  prophecy,  tongues, 
and  knowdedge.  They  have  passsd  away  wdth  the 
age  that  needed  them.  But  'love  never  faileth.' 
It  can  never  be  superseded.  The  church,  bereft  of 
the  extraordinary,  has  still  the  ordinary  graces  of 
the  Spirit :  for  the  apostle,  in  his  second  compari- 
son, says,  'And  now  abideth  faith,  hope,  love  — 
these  three.'  We  dare  not  disparage  faith,  for  ac- 
cording to  our  faith  so  is  it  nnto  us ;  and  we  can- 
not look  lightly  on  hope,  'for  we  are  saved  by 


THE  apostle's   ADJUDICATION.  279 

hope.'  *But  the  greatest  of  these  is  love.'  It 
leavens  all  other  graces  with  its. spirit.  'Love  is 
the  fullilling  of  the  law.'  '  Owe  no  man  anything, 
but  to  love  one  another ;  for  he  that  loveth  another 
hath  fulfilled  the  law.'  'Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord 
thy  God.  .  .  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thy- 
self On  these  two  commandments  bans:  all  the 
law  and  the  prophets.'  Every  precept  of  the  Deca- 
logue is  thus  resolved  into  love,  which  is  thereby 
enthroned  on  an  eminence  to  which  faith  and  hope 
cannot  be  elevated. 

Farther,  eloquence  such  as  would  befit  an  angel's 
lips  is,  without  it,  only  '  as  sounding  brass  or  a  tink- 
ling cymbal.'  Profound  insight  into  the  depths  of 
faith,  and  supernatural  ability  to  disclose  its  mys- 
teries, are  '  nothing,'  if  love  be  absent.  The  labours 
and  sacrifices  of  professed  philanthropy,  if  not 
prompted  and  sustained  by  it,  '  profit  nothing.  Such 
love  is  not  soon  exhausted,  is  filled  with  unweary- 
ing sympathy,  never  grudges  what  another  enjoys, 
never  boasts  of  its  efforts,  is  purely  disinterested  in 
all  its  labours,  never  rashly  withdraw^s  its  kindness, 
imputes  no  sinister  motives,  longs  to  advance  God's 
glory  and  man's  good,  is  patient  under  provocation, 
indulges  in  no  suspicions,  forms  no  censorious  judg- 
ments, perseveres  though  it  be  thwarted,  never 
dreams  of  rendering  evil  for  evil,  and  still  holds  on 
its  course  amidst  malignity  and  insult.  This  no- 
blest of  the  graces  has  faith  and  hope  as  its  suppor- 
ters, and  it  therefore  rises  as  far  above  them,  as  the 
end  surpasses  the  means.     And  when  faith  and 


280  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

hope  shall  have  ceased  to  exist  in  their  present 
forms  and  aspects,  it  shall  survive  unchanged  hut 
in  intensity.  llTay,  more,  it  gives  its  happy  posses- 
sor the  closest  approach  to  Him  who  is  Love,  for 
faith  and  hope  cannot  properly  he  ascribed  to  God, 
but  '  God  is  love,'  and  '  he  that  dwelleth  in  love, 
dwelleth  in  God,'  and  shall  dwell  with  Ilim  for 
ever.  We  are,  therefore,  brought  to  the  irresistible 
conclusion  that  '  The  greatest  of  these  is  love,'  ex- 
celling them  all  on  earth  and  absorbing  them  all 
into  itself  in  heaven  ;  for 

*  Love  is  heaven,  and  heaven  is  love.' 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         281 


LECTURE  XI. 


THE   FRIENDSHIP   AND   SYMPATHY   OF   JESUS. 

John  si.  5,  35. 

^NoioJest(3  loved  Martha,  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus.     .     .     . 
Jesus  ivept.' 

It  is  difficult  to  realise  the  fixct  of  our  Lord's  true 
humanity.  It  fades  away  froru  our  view  in  the 
splendour  of  His  Divinity,  so  close  was  the  union 
of  man  with  God.  But  it  was  nevertheless  a  dis- 
tinct manhood,  as  perfect  in  itself  as  that  w'orn  by 
any  of  our  race.  The  entire  record  of  Christ's  life 
proves  the  assertion.  He  was  born  as  the  children 
are  born  —  a  partaker  of  their  'flesh  and  blood;' 
and  He  was  nursed  as  the  children  are  nursed  — 
growing  '  in  wisdom  and  stature.'  He  w^as  hungry, 
and  He  ate;  He  was  thirsty,  and  He  drank;  He 
was  w^eary,  and  He  lay  down  ;  He  was  fatigued,  and 
He  slept;  He  was  smitten,  and  He  died.  Still  it  is 
no  easy  task  to  picture  out  to  ourselves  the  merely 
human  sensations  and  tendencies  w^hich  characterised 
the  man  Jesus.  We  believe  that  His  human  nature, 
sin  excepted,  w^as  as  ours ;  but  it  is  scarcely  possible 
for  us  to  feel  it  and  imagine  it,  from  the  overshadow- 


282  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

ing  glory  of  His  higher  essence.  In  consequence 
of  this  failure,  we  are  apt  to  miss  no  little  instruc- 
tion and  comfort  as  we  read  the  incidents  and  travel 
over  the  scenes  of  His  life.  We  invest  the  man 
with  attributes  belonging  to  the  God,  and  uncon- 
sciously deify  His  humanity.  Let  us,  therefore, 
humbly  endeavour  to  form  a  just  conception  of  one 
element  of  His  veritable  humanity  —  his  friendship 
and  sympathy.  Both  are  purely  human  emotions, 
and  both  existed  unmistakeably  in  Christ.  The 
Divine  Love  showed  itself  in  these  earthly  forms. 
We  are  not  to  throw  a  veil  over  them,  and  regard 
them  as  shapes  of  saving  grace ;  but  we  are  to  look 
upon  them  as  essentially  the  same  with  such  virtues 
and  affections  in  ourselves.  As  a  man,  our  Lord 
had  His  own  attachments  and  predilections,  distinct 
altogether  from  His  love  as  a  God,  and  His  com- 
passion as  a  Saviour.  There  was  among  His  apos- 
tles one  singled  out  as  ^the  disciple  whom  Jesus 
loved  ;  and  among  his  acquaintances  and  entertain- 
ers in  general  society  there  was  one  circle  specially 
endeared  to  Him.  The  sacred  record  states  that 
'Jesus  loved  Martha,  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus.' 
Let  us  approach  with  reverence,  and  contemplate 
with  amazement — 

L  The  Reality  of  Christ's  Friendship.  That 
Jesus  should  have  passed  His  life  in  solitude  was 
impossible  ;  nor  could  it  be  that  His  spirit,  wrapped 
up  within  itself,  should  be  alien  to  all  human  im- 
pulses. He  did  not  move  through  society  in  cold 
isolation,  or  teach  and  act  as  one  whose  soul  dwelt 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         283 

ill  a  sphere  of  its  own,  far  apart  and  high.  IRay 
more,  as  He  mingled  among  men  and  women,  He 
must  have  met  certain  forms  of  character  which 
had  special  attractions  for  Him.  He  was  moved  to 
friendship  by  what  He  liked,  as  really  as  to  sympathy 
by  the  suftering  which  He  saw.  What  disposes  our 
hearts  to  friendship,  must  have  operated  on  His 
spirit  with  a  similar  result.  So  it  was  ;  and  how  it 
was  w^ill  be  seen  in  the  following  paragraphs. 

In  that  village  which  lies  at  the  base  of  the  east- 
ern slope  of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  there  lived  a 
family  noted  for  their  harmony  and  piety.  It'con- 
sisted  of  a  brother  and  two  sisters.  The  neighbours 
noted  the  earnest  welcome  which  they  uniformly 
gave  to  an  occasional  visitor,  who  was  also  invited 
sometimes  to  partake  of  the  hospitality  of  Simon 
the  leper.  This  visitor  w^as  of  serene  and  august 
appearance,  and  it  was  soon  noised  abroad  that  He 
who  so  came  and  went  was  Jesus  of  ^N'azareth,  w^hose 
appearance  had  created  such  sensation  in  various 
parts  of  the  country.  He  v/ho  had  ^  not  where  to 
lay  His  head,'  found  a  home  under  the  roof  of 
Martha,  who  '  received  Him  into  her  house.'  After 
the  w^ork  of  the  day  w^as  over,  and  the  crowds  had 
dispersed,  He  felt  special  relief  in  this  domestic  re- 
tirement. It  must  have  been  a  happy  circle  which 
assembled  around  that  hearth  —  bosom  opening  to 
bosom  without  reserve,  thought  eliciting  thought  in 
free  and  happy  conversation.  Jesus  Himself  was 
at  ease,  unbending  from  all  His  public  cares,  con- 
scious of  being  out  of  the  reach  of  spies  and  slaud- 


284  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

erers,  reposing  in  confidence  on  the  love  of  His 
hostess,  quietly  telling  what  was  in  His  heart,  and 
partaking  cheerfully  of  the  fare  set  before  Him ; 
while  Lazarus  enjoyed  His  precious  company,  drink- 
ing wisdom  from  His  lips,  and  Mary  sat  at  His  feet, 
listening  devoutly  to  His  lessons,  and  looking  up 
into  His  face  with  awe  and  wonder.  This  hallowed 
intercourse  was  continued  for  some  time,  till  it  ripen- 
ed into  earnest  and  steady  friendship.  The  family 
grew  into  Christ's  affection,  and  His  heart  inter- 
twined itself  with  theirs.  At  length  they  regarded 
Him  as  one  of  themselves,  and  He  responded  to 
their  congenial  attachment.  He  was  the  friend  of 
the  family  of  Bethany,  joyed  with  them  when  they 
joyed,  and  we  know  that  He  wept  with  them  when 
they  wept.  Had  any  one  of  the  sisters  been  wed- 
ded. His  presence  at  the  nuptial  feast  would  have 
been  as  heartily  coveted  as  it  was  at  the  sickness, 
death,  and  funeral  of  the  brother.  In  all  that  con- 
cerned them,  He  sympathised,  and  He  made  no 
secret  of  His  interest  in  them,  but  spoke  to  His  dis- 
ciples of  '  our  friend  Lazarus.' 

This  friendship  grew  as  do  other  human  friend- 
ships. How  and  when  He  and  they  met  we  know 
not.  There  may  have  been  some  air  of  restraint 
at  their  first  interview.  When  Martha  invited  Him, 
she  might  wonder  whether  He  would  accept  her 
offer ;  and  she  and  the  family  might  not  well  know 
how  to  treat  Him  the  first  night  He  feasted  and 
slept  under  their  roof.  Their  demeanour  would  be 
that  of  reverent  attention.     But  frequency  of  inter- 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         285 

view  soon  produced  a  respectful  familiarity,  and  as 
there  followed  a  perfect  understanding  and  apprecia- 
tion of  one  another,  the  forms  of  courtesy  soon  he- 
came  the. easy  and  Uving  tokens  of  reciprocal  union. 
Heart  was  knit  to  heart  in  amity,  and  Jesus  was  no 
longer  as  a  guest,  but  as  an  inmate. 

The  Saviour  condescended  to  accept  of  various 
entertainments.  He  sat  a  guest  at  many  a  table, 
and  must  have  always  endeared  Himself  to  those 
about  Him  by  His  amiability  and  wisdom.  The 
love  of  His  bosom  must  have  shown  itself  in  the 
commonest  acts  of  convivial  intercourse,  and  in  the 
interchange  of  the  ordinary  civilities  of  social  life. 
But  it  did  not  always  mature  into  friendship.  To 
love  another  as  a  sinner,  and  labour  for  his  salva- 
tion ;  to  love  him  as  a  Jew,  and  have  a  special 
anxiety  for  a  countryman's  spiritual  welfare ;  to 
love  him  as  a  townsman  with  whom  he  had  once 
held  juvenile  communion,  and,  urged  by  such  a 
reminiscence,  to  seek  his  benefit  in  his  riper  years ; 
to  love  him  as  a  relative,  and  to  feel  his  kinship  in 
blood  to  be  a  very  tender  motive  for  blessing  him ; 
—  all  these  forms  of  love  must  have  been  often  felt 
by  Jesus,  and  as  often  exemplified  by  Him.  But 
none  of  them  are  identical  with  that  afi^ection  which 
He  cherished  towards  Lazarus  and  his  sisters.  They 
were  his  friends  —  He  loved  them  as  one  loves  the 
confidants  of  his  soul.  He  loved  humanity,  indeed, 
and  came  down  to  die  for  it ;  but  general  philan- 
thropy did  not  absorb  his  special  likings.  He 
preached  with  power,  and  crowds  listened  to  His 


286  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

addresses ;  but  He  '  did  not  commit  himself  to  them. 
He  pitied  and  healed  the  sick  and  maimed  —  re- 
ceived their  professions  of  gratitude,  and  then  dis- 
missed them.  Amidst  multitudes  of  disciples  in 
whom  He  rejoiced,  there  was  yet  an  inner  circle,  of 
which  alone  he  said,  '  ye  are  my  friends.'  In  other 
words,  apart  from  His  high  and  generous  sympa- 
thies as  Redeemer,  and  His  pure  and  fervent  patriot- 
ism as  the  Jewish  Messiah,  and  different  still  from 
His  mediatorial  grace  as  the  God-man,  the  Lord  had 
perfectly  human  attachments.  Human,  we  call 
them,  as  they  sprang  from  those  instinctive  sensibili- 
ties which  everywhere  characterise  our  nature. 

We  may  not  be  able  to  tell  all  the  reasons  of 
Christ's  friendship.  But  we  doubt  not  that  it  was 
based  on  mutual  esteem  and  like-mindedness,  on 
certain  elements  of  character  which  the  four  pos- 
sessed in  common,  and  which  were  so  blended  and 
harmonised  as  not  to  be  easily  detected  or  specified. 
There  must  have  been  in  the  family  of  Bethany  a 
vital  piety  lying  deep  in  an  ardent  nature,"feelings 
of  rare  delicacy,  and  quick  susceptibihty ;  integrity 
crowned  with  generosity,  innate  sympathy  with  the 
good  and  noble :  the  open  mind  and  the  gentle  heart 
—  all  yearning  to  meet  with  their  own  likeness,  and 
rejoicing  to  find  it  so  fully  in  Him,  whom  they  first 
'  took  in'  as  a  stranger,  then  entertained  as  a  guest, 
and  finally  cherished  as  a  friend.  Jesus  and  they 
were  instinctively  drawn  to  each  other:  'Jesus 
loved  Martha,  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus.'  It  was 
not  divine  grace,  nor  redeeming  kindness,  nor  rela- 


THE   FRIENDSHIP  ^OF   JESUS.  287 

tional  union,  nor  neighbourly  good-will,  nor  a  vague 
liking,  nor  official  attachment ;  but  it  was  the  aftcc- 
tionate  fondness  of  a  man  — the  love  of  a  friend. 

Let  it  not  be  objected  that  among  its  inculcation 
of  virtues,  the  gospel  forgets  friendship,  w^hen  its 
Author  sets  so  true  an  example  of  it.  Let  it  not  be 
objected  that  friendship  is  swallowed  up  in  general 
good-will  to  the  race,  or  special  attachment  to  the 
church.  We  are  summoned  to  love  one  another ;  but 
within  the  sphere  of  this  love  there  may  be  closer 
circles  of  Christian  friends,  formed  on  kindred  tastes 
and  mutual  intimacy.  There  are  various  fields  of 
Christian  labour,  and  associates  in  it  are  ever  ready 
to  embrace  each  other  in  a  dearer  fellowship,  if  they 
are  '  true  yoke-fellows.'  There  are  also  assemblages 
and  consultations  for  more  special  objects,  and  they 
who  there  speak  '  often  one  to  another'  usually  pass 
into  the  bonds  of  companionship.  They  wdiose 
natures  are  cast  in  the  same  mould,  or  who  have 
been  educated  by  the  same  experience  —  whose 
mental  constitution  is  not  dissimilar,  or  whose  his- 
tory has  been  chequered  by  the  same  vicissitudes, 
are  prepared  to  become  each  to  each  '  a  friend  that 
sticketh  closer  than  a  brother.'  And  if  there  be  in 
this  procedure  no  exclusive  partiality  or  selfish  pre- 
dilection, it  is  a  friendship  formed  on  the  model  of 
Jesus  and  the  household  of  Bethany.  Still  piety 
must  lay  the  foundation.  It  alone  can  secure  last- 
ing confidence  and  cement  friendship  on  earth  by 
the  thought,  that  though  it  be  interrupted  for  an 
interval  it  shall  be  renewed  in  glory.     It  divests 


288  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

sucli  alliances  of  all  selfishness,  refi.nes  them  from 
earthly  grossness,  and  preserves  them  nnbroken  by 
human  frailtj^  Heathen  sages  have  expatiated  on 
the  pleasures  of  friendship  ;  but  have  not  Christians 
better  reason  ?  Theirs  is  a  closer  fellowship  ;  for  it 
is  that  of  spirit  as  well  as  of  mind  —  linked  together 
not  only  by  the  sameness  of  creed,  but  by  oneness  of 
destiny.  It  is  a  fellowship  exercised  in  tastes  not 
merely  refined,  but  sanctifi.ed ;  and  in  pleasures  not 
only  dignifi.ed,  but  divine ;  while  it  is  associated 
with  hopes  that  are  not  bounded  by  the  grave,  and 
with  enjoyments  that  rise  from  the  imperfection  of 
earth  into  the  tranquil  rapture  of  heaven.  Ours  is 
an  immortal  friendship  ;  for  it  rests  on  an  imperish- 
able basis.  It  is  not  union  so  long  as  we  travel  to- 
gether, but  union,  too,  in  our  everlasting  rest. 

*  A  few  short  years  of  evil  past, 
We  reach  the  happy  shore, 
Where  death-divided  friends  at  last 
Shall  meet,  to  part  no  more.' 

II.  We  remark,  that  the  Friendship  of  Jesus  is 

NOT  affected  by  VARIETIES  OF  INDIVIDUAL  TEMPERA- 
MENT. This  family  was  one  in  spirit ;  but  there  was 
diversity  in  the  midst  of  unity.  The  one  living  faith 
dwelt  in  their  hearts  and  fi.lled  them  ;  but  each  heart 
had  its  special  and  distinctive  peculiarities. 

"VYe  do  not  know  much  of  Lazarus.  It  is  plain, 
however,  that  his  character  endeared  him  to  Jesus. 
The  appeal  of  his  sisters  for  him  was,  '  Lord,  behold, 
he  w^hom  thou  lovest  is  sick.'     "When  Jesus  stood 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         289 

by  the  grave  of  him  whom  He  had  called  '  friend,' 
and  as  the  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  the  specta- 
tors truly  said,  'Behold  how  he  loved  him.'  He 
had  *  sat  at  meat'  with  Jesus,  and  enjoyed  a  close 
and  tender  intimacy  with  Him. 

The  character  of  Martha  is  marked  by  broad  and 
distinctive  lines.  In  some  sense,  the  mansion  at 
Bethany  was  hers — she  '  received  him,'  the  evan- 
gelist tells  us,  '  into  her  house.'  The  management 
of  the  family  was  also  devolved  upon  her.  Her 
sphere  was  activity,  and  she  honoured  Jesus  in 
specially  ministering  to  His  physical  comforts.  When 
she  was  'cumbered  about  much  serving,'  she  re- 
quested Jesus  to  urge  her  sister  to  assist  her.  Not 
that  she  was  unwilling  to  prolong  her  service,  or 
grudged  that  her  sister  was  disengaged ;  but  her  de- 
sire was  to  abridge  the  labour,  by  dividing  it,  that 
she  too  might  listen  to  the  Divine  Instructor.  !N'or 
is  she  to  be  wholly  blamed.  Such  duties  as  be- 
longed to  her  must  be  attended  to  in  their  place ; 
and  had  not  Martha  been  working,  Mary  could  not 
have  been  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.  Were  there 
no  Marthas,  there  could  be  no  Marys.  But  proba- 
bly Martha  attached  too  much  importance  to  her 
housekeeping,  and  erred  in  showing,  so  much  in 
this  way,  her  kindness  to  the  Master.  She  laboured 
to  set  forth  a  feast  w^orthy  of  the  occasion,  and  Jesus 
hinted  to  her  that  honour  meant  for  Him  might 
assume  another  form.  '  One  thing  is  needful,'  and 
to  it  everything  else  should  yield.  He  required  but 
25 


290  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

little  serving,  and  much  serving  only  troubled  tbe 
mistress  of  the  mansion. 

The  mind  of  Martha  was  robust.  Under  the  sad 
bereavement  that  fell  upon  her,  she  did  not  lose  self- 
possession.  When  she  heard  that  Jesus  was  coming 
to  visit  her,  she  went  and  met  Him  ;  '  but  Mary  sat 
still  in  the  house.'  At  once  did  she  accost  Him 
with  the  declaration,  'Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here,  my  brother  had  not  died.'  The  statement  has 
the  semblance  of  a  complaint,  that  Jesus  might 
have  hastened  His  steps  on  receiving  the  news  of 
the  illness  of  Lazarus.  But  she  indulged  in  no 
paroxysm  of  sorrow  —  being  able  to  add  a  declara- 
tion, of  the  full  meaning  and  force  of  which  she 
was  not  aware,  '  I  know,  that  even  now,  whatsoever 
thou  wilt  ask  of  God,  God  will  give  it  thee.'  The 
Saviour  assured  her  of  her  brother's  resurrection, 
and  she  replied  at  once,  '  I  know  that  he  shall  rise 
again  in  the  resurrection  at  the  last  day.'  This 
article  of  her  creed  gave  her  solace  in  the  hour  of 
sorrow.  The  Saviour  spoke  yet  again  to  her  of  His 
own  function  as  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  and 
she  avowed  her  belief  in  His  Messiahship.  The 
mind  that  could  thus  express  its  hopes  and  give  its 
reasons,  was  a  mind  whose  natural  strength  had 
been  augmented  by  a  healthy  and  vigorous  faith. 

On  the  other  hand,  Mary  was  calm  and  pensive. 
She  had  chosen  the  'good  part,'  and  it  formed  the 
theme  of  continuous  meditation.  What  was  fixed 
'and  intelligent  belief  in  her  sister,  was  in  her  deep 
and  tender  sentiment.     The  conversation  of  Jesus 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OP  JESUS.         291 

had  a  special  cliarm  for  her,  and  her  favourite  pos- 
ture was  at  His  feet.  He  was  to  her  the  incarnation 
of  wisdom  and  love.  She  might  admire  the  busy 
hands  and  nimble  feet  of  Martha,  but  she  would  not 
stir  to  assiit  her,  lest  she  should  lose  one  of  the 
pearls  that  dropped  from  the  Loved  One's  lips. 
Under  the  shock  of  bereavement  her  sensitive  spirit 
was  sorely  crushed.  She  sat  and  mourned,  brooded 
over  her  loss,  and  felt  it  the  more  keenly,  as  she  had 
so  twined  herself  round  her  brother's  heart.  Her's 
was  one  of  those  delicate  natures  that  feel  their 
need  of  some  one  to  lean  on,  as  the  soft  tendril  that 
clings  instinctively  to  the  oak  for  support.  "When 
the  visit  of  Christ  was  announced,  her  sister  rose 
up  to  meet  Him,  '  but  Mary  sat  still  in  the  house.' 
The  thought  of  seeing  her  brother's  friend,  brought 
so  vividly  their  past  intercourse  to  remembrance, 
that  her  heart  bled  afresh.  "When  at  length  Martha 
roused  her  by  the  secret  intelligence,  *  the  Master  is 
come  and  calleth  for  thee,'  'she  rose  up  quickly,' 
and  yet  when  she  met  Him  she  could  not  speak  like 
her  sister;  but  'she  fell  at  his  feet.'  Those  happy 
evenings  when  her  brother  sat  with  Him  and  she 
listened  had  come  to  an  end,  and  Lazarus  was  now 
in  his  tomb.  The  shadow  of  death  that  had  fallen 
upon  her  dwelling,  had  also  descended  upon  her 
heart.  The  friends  who  had  come  to  offer  their 
condolence  intimated  their  perfect  knowledge  of  her 
character,  when  they  conjectured,  as  they  saw  her 
so  hastily  leave  the  house,  that  she  had  gone  to  the 
grave  'to  weep  there.' 


292  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

The  character  of  the  two  sisters  is  thus  quite  dis- 
tinct. Both  were  pious  —  both  believed  in  Christ. 
Both  were  warmly  attached  to  Him,  and  in  their 
kindness  to  strangers,  had  entertained  a  higher  than 
angels.  Both  delighted  to  honour  the  Messiah. 
But  Martha  showed  it  more  as  a  hostess,  Mary  more 
as  a  disciple ;  Martha  spared  no  pains  on  her  feast, 
and  Mary  none  in  her  efforts  to  hear  and  learn. 
Activity  for  Him  characterised  the  one,  submission 
to  Him  filled  the  other.  That  the  distinguished 
stranger  should  be  entertained  as  He  ought  to  be 
was  Martha's  motive  —  that  His  visit  should  be  spi- 
ritually blessed  to  herself  was  Mary's  ruling  passion. 
Martha's  was  an  active,  energetic  nature ;  Mary's  a 
more  passive  and  confiding  temperament.  When 
'they  made  him  a  supper,'  Martha  was  happy  in 
serving;  but  during  the  feast,  Mary,  with  true 
womanly  devotion,  slipped  behind  the  couch  on 
which  He  reclined,  knelt  and  anointed  his  feet  with 
a  very  costly  perfume,  '  and  wiped  them  with  her 
hair.'  When  Jesus  went  to  the  grave  of  Lazarus 
and  said,  'Take  away  the  stone,'  Martha  at  once 
interposed,  but  Mary  offered  no  resistance.  Martha 
imagined  that  Jesus  wished  to  obtain  the  natural 
gratification  of  looking  on  His  deceased  friend's 
face ;  but  believing  that  the  process  of  decomposi- 
tion was  far  advanced,  she  shrunk  from  the  prospect 
of  looking  again  on  her  brother's  ghastly  remains, 
and  would  have  arrested  the  process  of  opening  the 
sepulchre ;  but  Mary,  in  the  courage  of  her  unre- 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.  293 

sisting  weakness,  could  have  endured  the  sight ;  at 
least  she  made  no  objection  to  the  Lord's  proposal. 

]S"ow,  such  varieties  of  temperament  have  existed 
in  all  ages.  Mental  characteristics  are  not  obliter- 
ated bj  conversion.  Divine  grace  does  not  produce 
uniformity  in  human  nature.  It  left  in  their  own 
prominence,  the  valour  of  David,  the  genius  of 
Isaiah,  the  pathos  of  Jeremiah,  the  fervour  of  John, 
and  the  reasoning  powers  of  Paul.  The  innate 
elements  of  the  mind  and  character  stamp  an  indi- 
vidualising distinction  on  us.  JSTo  two  individuals 
have  precisely  the  same  features,  nor  have  they  the 
same  intellectual  conformation.  Partakers  of  the 
*  common  salvation,'  their  Christianity  is  tinged  by 
their  personal  peculiarities.  Nay,  it  is  also  aft'ected 
by  difference  in  race  and  blood,  as  may  be  seen  in 
the  ancient  and  modern  churches  of  Europe,  and 
in  missionary  stations  over  the  world.  Simplicity, 
docilitj^,  and  a  confidence  that  does  not  seek  to 
analyse  its  warrant,  and  explain  all  its  grounds,  are 
found  in  one  region  ;  while  another  is  distinguished 
by  a  marvellous  subtlety  of  intellect,  and  a  love  of 
argument,  which  are  not  uniformly  promotive  of 
faith  or  love.  Thus,  while  the  lakes  are  filled  with 
water  —  each  of  them  has  its  own  shape  and  di- 
mensions—  its  own  species  of  herbage  and  shrub- 
bery upon  its  banks.  There  may  be  sameness 
in  confidence  and  hope,  in  devotion  and  service, 
but  there  will  be  minor  difterences  of  aspect  and 
manifestation. 

For  religion,  though  it  sanctify  mental  power  in 
25* 


294  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

the  children  of  God,  does  not  give  it  an  equal 
strength  in  all  of  them ;  and  while  it  elevates  and 
purifies  the  heart,  it  does  not  produce  a  uniform 
evenness  of  ardour  and  love.  There  are  some  be- 
lievers in  whom  intellect  predominates,  and  the 
'full  assurance  of  understanding'  is  their  goal; 
others  in  whom  emotion  has  a  constitutional  em- 
pire, and  who  find  a  more  natural  delight  in  devout 
meditation  than  in  profound  reflection.  Some  have 
an  instinctive  tendency  to  ruminate  on  the  past,  and 
on  what  He  has  done  for  their  soul ;  others  are  led 
forward  to  sanguine  expectation,  and  find  their 
paradise  in  the  'full  assurance  of  hope.'  One  class 
tends  to  look  more  to  Christ  without  them  in  His 
atonement ;  and  another  class  inclines  to  look  more 
to  Christ  within  them  bj  His  Spirit.  There  are 
those  of  a  darker  hue,  w^ho  prefer  to  walk  in  the 
valley,  humming  psalms  of  penitence  ;  and  there  are 
those  of  a  bright  nature,  who  love  to  traverse  the 
mountains,  chaunting  hymns  of  triumph.  Babes 
are  found  by  the  side  of  perfect  men.  Activity  has 
its  sphere  contiguous  to  that  of  quiet  contemplation. 
This  one  is  forward  to  tell  his  experience,  and  that 
one  shrinks  from  laying  bare  his  bosom.  One  mem- 
ber of  the  church  gives  largely  and  cheerfully ;  an- 
other is  concussed  into  liberality  by  the  repeated 
protestations  of  his  conscience.  On  the  one  hand, 
you  meet  with  one  who  carries  his  religious  spirit 
into  his  business,  firmly  and  without  ostentation ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  you  meet  with  another,  who 
is  afraid  to  mingle  with  the  world,  and  who  leaves 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OP  JESUS.  295 

its  bustle,  that  in  liis  retirement  he  may  walk  with 
God.  I  feed  on  doctrine,  says  one ;  I  live  in  prac- 
tice, responds  another.  The  world  is  dangerous  — 
beware  of  it,  is  the  motto  of  this  party.  The  world 
is  sinful  —  but  try  and  better  it,  is  the  maxim  of  an- 
other party.  The  nature  of  one  excites  him  to  battle 
as  a  missionary ;  and  the  nature  of  another  fits  him 
to  endure  as  a  martj-r.  To  this  one,  earth  appears 
as  a  scene  of  duty,  on  which  to  *  fight  the  good 
fight;'  and,  to  that  one,  as  a  field  of  trial — a  valley 
of  Baca,  where  the  pilgrims  w^eep  as  they  go.  And 
lastly,  some  expire  in  calmness,  and  others  die  in 
triumph. 

!N"ow  all  such  complexional  varieties  of  piety  are 
the  result,  not  of  education  or  training,  but  of  origi- 
nal temperament.  Men  are  born  so ;  and  these 
inborn  peculiarities,  though  they  may  be  greatly 
modified,  are  never  erased.  They  resemble  the  fea- 
tures of  the  face,  the  larger  lines  of  which,  amidst 
many  changes,  remain  unaltered ;  and  they  serve, 
like  them,  to  produce  recognition.  Besides,  every 
gift  is  useful  in  its  place ;  no  talent  is  superfluous 
—  all  being  consecrated  to  the  glory  of  God.  The 
prayer  for  revival  is  as  needful  as  the  effort  for  ex- 
tension. Adherence  to  principle  is  useful,  if  it  rise 
not  to  intolerance ;  but  so  is  catholicity  of  spirit,  if 
it  sink  not  into  latitudinarianism.  The  prayer  of 
Moses  on  the  hill  sustained  the  courage  of  Joshua 
in  the  vale.  The  tongue  that  pleads  for  Miberal 
things,'  and  the  enterprise  that  acts  upon  them,  are 
as  important  as  the  '  liberal  soul'  which  '  deviseth' 


296  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

tliem.  '  The  Lord  hath  need'  of  every  variety  of 
gift  and  grace  in  His  church.  When,  therefore, 
faitli  dwells  in  the  heart,  and  the  Divine  Spirit  occu- 
pies it,  amidst  all  the  diversities  created  by  Him  wlio 
gave  us  existence,  the  friendship  of  Christ  may  be 
enjoyed.  Various  as  were  the  mental  habits  and 
spiritual  tendencies  of  the  members  of  the  family  of 
Bethany,  it  is  nevertheless  a  blessed  fact,  that  '  Jesus 
loved  Martha,  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus.' 

ni.  We  remark,  that  the  Friendship  of  Jesus 

DOES   NOT   EXEMPT   ITS    POSSESSORS   FROM  AFFLICTION. 

He  put  forth  no  miraculous  power  to  prevent  Laza- 
rus from  falling  into  sickness.  The  good  man  was 
seized  with  some  overpowering  malady,  and  gradu- 
ally sunk  beneath  it  and  died.  Jesus  might  easily 
have  ordered  it  otherwise,  for  the  effect  of  a  miracle 
did  not  depend  upon  his  personal  presence  at  the 
scene  of  operation.  ISTor  was  it  in  ignorance  of  his 
suff"ering  that  Jesus  allowed  him  to  descend  into  the 
grave,  for  He  was  well  aware  of  the  instant  of  his 
death,  and  intimated  it,  in  His  own  form,  to  His 
disciples.  Nay  more,  on  being  informed  of  his  ill- 
ness, not  only  did  He  not  haste  to  his  relief,  but 
actually,  on  receipt  of  the  intelligence.  He  '  abode 
two  days  still  in  the  same  place  where  he  was.* 
Even  the  appeal  to  His  friendship  did  not  move 
Him ;  for  the  message  was  couched  in  these  terms 
of  simple  pathos,  'Lord,  behold  he  whom  thou 
lovest  is  sick.'  Severe  agoii}^  and  death  were  thus 
permitted  to  Lazarus ;  and  a  heavy  trial  of  bereave- 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OP  JESUS.         297 

ment  were  allowed  to  fall  on  the  family  whom  Jesus 
loved. 

The  religion  of  Christ  does  not  free  us  from  suf- 
fering. It  often  leads  to  it.  Not  only  are  we  liable 
to  the  ills  which  press  upon  humanity,  but  special 
chastenings  are  set  apart  for  us.  Believers  have 
sufferings  in  common  with  others ;  but  they  have 
also  trials  adapted  particularly  to  themselves.  The 
object  of  Christianity  is  to  train  the  mind ;  and  it 
takes  advantage  of  suffering  to  aid  it  in  the  process 
of  tuition.  It  works  in  the  sphere  of  experience. 
It  does  not  simply  set  lessons  before  us,  but  it  pro- 
duces changes  within  us.  It  does  not  do  with  us, 
as  the  sculptor  with  the  block  of  marble,  when  he 
gives  it  only  the  external  form,  aspect,  and  drapery 
of  humanity ;  but  it  descends  into  the  recesses  of 
our  nature,  and  there  operates  so  mightily  that, 
under  its  guidance,  the  sharp  edge  of  affliction 
traces  out  the  living  image  of  God. 

Experience  is  the  offspring  of  religion.  We  should 
never  know  thoroughly  the  character  of  God,  unless 
we  felt  our  need  of  His  grace.  We  read  of  His 
'  tender  mercies ;'  but  their  tenderness  is  never  really 
understood  save  by  the  sufferer  who  feels  it.  Who 
but  she  who  has  been  made  a  widow,  can  truly 
fathom  the  depth  of  grace  in  the  statement,  that  He 
is  'the  husband  of  the  widow?'  The  orphan,  soli- 
tary and  unbefriended,  has  the  only  clue  to  the 
whole  meaning  of  the  promise,  'Leave  thy  fatherless 
children :  I  will  preserve  them  alive.'  The  bright 
stars  appear  as  the  gloom  falls  upon  the  earth ;  so ' 


298  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

promises  assume  a  new  lustre  and  power  to  the 
spirit  lying  under  the  shadow  of  suffering.  They 
only  know  what  God  is,  who  have  experience  of 
what  He  has  done  to  themselves.  They  may 
imagine  that  they  knew  such  things  before,  for  their 
creed  was  pure  and  full,  and  they  might  be  able  to 
expatiate  on  the  perfection  and  loveliness  of  the 
Divine  character ;  but  now,  since  they  have  been  in 
trouble,  they  have  received  a  deeper  insight,  for 
themselves  are  a  living  lesson  and  argument  of 
God's  goodness  and  pity.  I  may  rejoice  in  the  at- 
tachment of  my  friend,  though  I  have  never  put  it 
to  a  severe  trial ;  but  if  I  am  suddenly  brought  to 
ruin,  and  he  as  promptly  rescues  me,  even  at  great 
sacrifice  to  himself,  I  may  safely  say  that  I  never 
knew  the  profoundness  and  value  of  his  friendship. 
It  is  therefore  in  the  period  of  suffering  and  bereave- 
ment that  the  soul  is  brought  into  nearer  contact 
with  God,  and  knows  Him,  not  from  what  it  be- 
lieves, but  from  what  it  enjoys  —  not  from  what  it 
has  been  taught,  but  from  what  it  has  experienced. 
We  are  all  aware  that  our  Lord  is  named  the  '  Man 
of  sorrows,'  and  we  are  taught  that  He  is  'touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities;'  but  we  do  not 
adequately  comprehend  the  truth,  till,  under  the 
pressure  of  infirmity,  we  enjoy  His  sympathy;  and 
then  we  can  say,  Xow  we  know  it,  for  we  have  felt 
it.  There  is  truly  a  sublime  meaning  in  the  words 
which  He  spoke  to  Martha,  *  I  am  the  Resurrection 
and  the  Life ;'  but  only  those  circumstanced  as  she 
was  —  the  grave  having  closed  over  her  brother  — 


THE    FRIEND.^IIIP    OF   JESUS.  299 

can  reall}'  enter  into  their  nobility  and  triumph. 
lie  who  has  never  felt  the  x^ang  or  desolation  of 
bereavement  —  whose  heart  has  never  been  pierced 
by  the  barbed  and  mortal  shaft — who  has  never 
gazed  on  the  corpse  of  parent,  brother,  or  child,  and 
seen  it  closed  up  from  view  —  who  has  never  made 
one  of  the  group  of  weeping  mourners  that  stand, 
in  inexpressiVjle  solemnity-,  by  the  grave,  and  feel  a 
sad  sinking  of  heart  as  they  leave  behind  them,  in 
dust  and  darkness,  that  form  which  they  shall  not 
see  again  till  Christ  descend  and  the  trumpet  sound 
—  such  a  scathless  and  untried  believer  cannot, 
though  he  would,  unfold  to  himself  the  sweetness 
and  comfort  of  the  saying,  '  I  am  the  Resurrection 
and  the  Life.'  There  is  no  Christian  heart  that 
does  not  hold  by  the  pledge,  *  My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  thee;'  but  it  is  only  when  '  weakness'  overpowers 
it,  that  it  can  really  find  that  His  *  strength  is  made 
perfect.'  Without  affliction,  the  purest  and  closest 
knowledge  of  God  could  never  be  acquired  ;  a  vail 
would  still  seem  to  lie  upon  Ilim.  The  glory  that 
surrounds  Him  might  dazzle  us ;  but  we  should  still 
be  comparative  strangers  to  the  tenderness  and  love 
of  His  heart.  Still  at  a  distance  from  Him,  we 
would  indeed  trust  Him;  but  when  He  lays  His 
hand  upon  us  and  brings  us  nearer  Him,  then  do  we 
acquaint  ourselves  with  His  loving-kindness,  no 
longer  by  report,  but  by  tasting  it.  You  may  have 
seen  the  solar  beam  thrown  back  in  yellow  splen- 
dour from  the  crv'stal  rocks,  as  they  glistened  with 
gold;  but  now  you  have  found  and  gathered  the 


800  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

precious  ore.  It  is  one  thing  to  admire  the  beauty 
of  His  pavilion,  and  another  thing  to  be  in  it ;  one 
thing  to  know  Him  from  what  He  has  said,  and 
another  to  know  Him  in  what  He  has  done.  Surely 
experimental  intimacy  far  excels  theoretic  informa- 
tion ;  but  it  is  gained  only  in  the  school  of  affliction. 

Did,  therefore,  the  friendship  of  Christ  secure  us 
aofainst  suiferine:,  it  would  shade  from  our  view  these 
prime  and  happy  lessons.  But  Christ  is  anxious 
that  we  learn  them,  and  therefore,  though  He  loves 
us,  He  permits  us  to  suffer,  that  we  may  yearn  for 
n  fuller  sense  of  His  presence,  and,  penetrating  into 
His  heart,  know,  because  we  feel,  the  love  and  power 
of  our  Beloved  and  Friend. 

There  was  some  lesson  which  the  family  of 
Bethany  needed  to  learn.  Perhaps  they  indulged 
the  thought  that  Christ's  friendship  might  ward  off 
all  affliction  from  them.  They  might  fondly  dream, 
that  as  He  ministered  such  help  to  others  in  healing 
their  diseases.  He  would  guard  them  from  the  very 
approach  of  sickness.  It  would,  they  might  reason, 
be  as  loving  a  token  of  His  regard  to  prevent  afflic- 
tion altogether,  as  to  remove  it  after  it  had  been 
sent.  And  thus  they  gradually  presumed  upon  His 
friendship  as  a  safeguard,  for  each  of  the  sisters  by 
herself,  in  this  spirit,  thus  accosted  Him,  '  Lord,  if 
thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not  died.'  A 
similar  impression  rested  on  the  minds  of  such  as 
knew  the  Saviour's  previous  intimacy  with  the 
family.     *And  some  of  them  said,  Could  not  this 


THE  FRIENDSniP  OF  JESUS.         301 

man,  which   opened  the  eyes  of  the  blind,   have 
caused  that  even  this  man  shouhl  not  have  died  ?' 

Now,  such  a  notion,  however  naturally  formed, 
was  based  on  an  erroneous  estimate  of  His  character 
and  relationship.  It  was  lifting  their  own  wisdom 
to  a  level  with  His ;  it  was  deciding  by  themselves 
what  was  best  for  them ;  it  was,  in  short,  prescrib- 
ing a  channel  for  Christ's  affection.  Therefore' 
Lazarus  sickened  when  Christ  was  away,  and  the 
kindest  of  friends  did  on  purpose  prolong  His  ab- 
sence. An  earnest  message  came,  but  He  obeyed 
it  not.  The  sisters  were  then  effectually  taught  that 
they  were  not  to  interfere  with  Christ's  modes 
of  operation,  and  that  they  enjoyed  no  undue 
favouritism  from  their  intercourse  with  Him.  How 
anxiously  they  must  have  looked,  hour  after  hour, 
for  His  approach !  How  brightly  they  would  pic- 
ture out  their  brother's  immediate  restoration  to 
health  from  His  presence  and  touch !  How  their 
souls  would  sink  in  gloom  when  Lazarus  became 
worse  and  worse,  and  his  pale  and  collapsed  counte- 
nance betokened  the  near  and  sure  approach  of  the 
last  enemy  !  With  what  '  searchings  of  heart'  they 
would  try  and  frame  reasons  for  Christ's  seeming 
indifference  to  them  in  the  period  of  trial  and  sor- 
row !  And  at  length  when  they  had  closed  their 
brother's  eyes,  and  swathed  him  in  the  dress  of  the 
tomb,  how  they  would  still  ponder  over  the  reasons 
of  Christ's  inexplicable  conduct  towards  them.  It 
was  on  the  fourth  day  that  their  Friend  came  to 
them — not  as  they  had  anticipated,  to  heal  the  sick, 
26 


302  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

but  to  condole  over  the  dead,  and  mingle  His  tears 
with  those  of  the  bereaved  household.  But  now,  in 
Christ's  studied  refusal  to  their  touching  solicitation, 
and  in  the  subsequent  resurrection  of  their  brother, 
they  learned  that  God's  ways  are  higher  than  man's 
w^ays,  and  are  therefore  not  to  be  judged  of  in  hu- 
man weakness  —  that  it  is  dangerous  to  pass  an 
opinion  upon  any  divine  process  till  we  have  seen 
the  result — that  affliction  is  one  of  God's  most  effec- 
tive methods  of  tuition,  and  that  the  endurance  of 
it  is  no  proof  of  any  failure  in  Christ's  friendship, 
for  His  love  assumed  a  new  tenderness  and  a  more 
glorious  form  of  manifestation  in  the  day  of  their 
visitation  and  anguish. 

They  might  have  questioned  His  friendship  during 
the  lapse  of  those  four  mysterious  days,  but  now 
they  saw,  as  they  could  not  have  seen  it  otherwise, 
how  He  loved  them.  He  did  not  begin  to  comfort 
them  with  the  usual  appliances  —  did  not  bid  them 
adore  the  awfulness  of  the  dispensation,  and  pray 
for  grace  to  improve  it — did  not  point  them  forward 
to  a  happy  re-union — did  not  say  that  their  loss  was 
gain  to  Lazarus,  and  that  they  were  not  to  sorrow 
'  even  as  others  which  have  no  hope' — but  He  went 
to  the  tomb  and  there  He  wept,  commanded  the 
stone  to  be  rolled  aside,  summoned  the  sleeper  back 
to  life,  and  gave  him  to  the  embrace  of  his  sisters. 
But  for  the  sickness,  death,  and  funeral  of  Lazarus, 
and  Christ's  absence  in  the  interval,  this  miracle, 
set  in  such  love,  would  not  have  greeted  them.  As 
they  returned,  in  company  with  their  brother,  from 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         303 

the  tomb,  and  saw  him  again  in  his  own  raiment, 
in  health  and  happiness,  did  they  wonder  now  why 
his  sickness  was  permitted,  and  why  Jesus  was  ab- 
sent? The  greater  evil  fell  upon  them  that  the 
greater  good  might  be  possessed.  The  joy  of  the 
rebound  was  in  proportion  to  the  depth  of  the  pre- 
vious descent.  Their  gladness  in  his  resurrection 
derived  its  glow  and  fervour  from  the  agony  of  the 
preceding  death  and  bereavement.  The  triumph 
of  love  was  mightier  by  far  at  the  sepulchre  than  it 
could  have  been  at  the  sick-bed.  They  had  learned 
the  lesson  which  they  needed,  their  faith  was  con- 
firmed in  Jesus  as  Messiah,  and  their  hope  rested 
on  Him  as  Uhe  Resurrection  and  the  Life.' 

Wonder  not,  then.  Christian,  thou  that  lovest 
Jesus  and  feelest,  too,  that  Jesus  loves  thee,  why 
thou  art  afflicted  or  why  thou  art  bereaved.  ^N'ever 
suppose  for  a  moment  that  Christ  has  forgotten  thee, 
or  that  His  friendship  toward  thee  has  cooled.  But 
seek  in  very  earnest  to  feel  the  benefit  of  the  dis- 
cipline, and  in  its  issue  thou  shalt  behold  new  and 
multiplied  tokens  of  His  love.  True,  He  has  power 
to  guard  thee  from  suffering,  but  He  loves  thee 
better,  and  He  consults  thy  interests  more  wisely 
than  to  give  thee  total  exemption.  Is  not  this  His 
own  lansruao-e :  'For  a  small  moment  have  I  for- 
saken  thee ;  but  with  great  mercies  will  I  gather 
thee.  In  a  little  wrath  I  hid  my  face  from  thee  for 
a  moment;  but  with  everlasting  kindness  will  I 
have  mercy  on  thee,  saith  the  Lord,  thy  Redeemer.' 
Do  not  perplex  thy  mind  with  insoluble  questions, 


304  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

but  listen  again :  ^  Beloved,  think  it  not  strange  con- 
cerning the  fiery  trial  which  is  to  try  yon,  as  though 
some  strange  thing  happened  unto  3^011 ;  but  rejoice, 
inasmuch  as  ye  are  partakers  of  Christ's  sufferings; 
that,  when  his  glorj^  shall  be  revealed,  ye  may  be 
glad  also  with  exceeding  joy.'  Do  not,  in  fine,  com- 
pare thy  case  with  that  of  others,  and  gather  in 
upon  thee  dark  and  shadowy  conclusions.  O  rather 
lay  hold  on  the  apostle's  assertion,  and  find  unfail- 
ing comfort  in  it :  '  There  hath  no  temptation  taken 
you  but  such  as  is  common  to  man ;  but  God  is 
faithful,  who  will  not  suffer  you  to  be  tempted  above 
that  ye  are  able ;  but  will  with  the  temptation  also 
make  a  way  to  escape,  that  ye  may  be  able  to  bear 
it.'     But  we  remark — 

lY.  While  the  friendship  of  Jesus  does  not  ex- 
empt from  afiliction,  it  deepens  into  Sympathy 
WITH  THOSE  WHO  ENDURE  IT.  Evcu  during  His  ab- 
sence, the  soul  of  Jesus  was  in  Bethany.  Once 
and  again,  as  if  the  matter  was  dwelling  upon  His 
mind,  did  He  refer  to  it  in  speaking  with  the  dis- 
ciples. At  first  he  told  them  generallj^,  'this  sick- 
ness is  not  unto  death.'  Then  He  proposed  to  go 
back  to  Judea ;  and  next  He  said,  ^  Our  friend  La- 
zarus sleepeth  ;  but  I  go  that  I  may  awake  him  out 
of  sleep.'  The  disciples  thought  that  their  Master 
spoke  of  a  natural  sleep  —  the  common  index  that 
the  crisis  is  past ;  and  they  answered,  '  Lord,  if  he 
Bleep  he  shall  do  well.'  *     At  last  Jesus  told  them 

*  The  Scottish  mode  of  expressing  the  same  idea  would  be, 
*  He  has  got  the  turn.' 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         305 

plainly,  'Lazarus  is  dead.'  His  mind  was  tluis 
broodino;  over  the  scene,  and  the  sympathy  of  His 
heart  was  all  the  while  extended  to  the  bereaved 
and  sorrowing  sisters.  Though  His  enemies  had 
threatened  to  stone  Him  in  Judea,  He  had  now  no 
hesitation  in  returning  to  the  province  on  this  errand 
of  love.  He  felt  that  He  was  immortal  till  His 
work  was  done  ;  and  therefore  he  set  out  for  Beth- 
any. By  the  time  He  arrived,  Lazarus  had  been 
four  days  dead,  and  Himself  had  not  been  more 
than  a  day's  journey  distant.  The  family  He  had 
loved  were  in  deep  distress,  and  'many  of  the  Jews 
came  to  comfort  Martha  and  Mary  concerning  their 
brother.'  Both  sisters  had  deeply  loved  him,  and 
both  must  have  felt  forlorn  and  desolate.  It  may 
be  that  each  sister  would  not  have  felt  the  loss  of 
the  other  so  keenly  as  both  felt  the  loss  of  Lazarus 
—  the  representative  to  them  of  a  deceased  father, 
and  a  head  and  protector  to  the  household.  Many 
things  he  could  do  for  them  or  with  them,  which, 
according  to  the  usage  of  their  country,  and  the 
barriers  thrown  around  their  sex,  they  were  not  per- 
mitted to  do  for  themselves.  So  that  to  them  he 
was  clothed  with  a  parent's  authority,  tempered 
with  the  equality  of  a  brother's  affection.  The  Sa- 
viour, as  He  met  Martha,  could  speak  in  a  firm  tone 
of  assurance  to  her ;  but  when  He  saw  Mary  lying 
at  His  feet,  weeping  in  the  bitterness  of  her  soul, 
and  the  mourners  and  relatives  weeping  in  company 
with  her.  He  was  deeply  moved  —  'He  groaned  in 
the  spirit,  and  was  troubled.'  Under  the  pressure 
26^ 


306  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

of  deep  emotion,  He  could  only  command  Himself 
so  far  as  briefly  to  ask,  '  Where  have  ye  laid  him  ?' 
The  reply  was,  ^  Come  and  see.'  And  as  He  took 
the  first  step  to  the  tomb  of  His  friend,  His  emotion 
could  no  longer  be  restrained ;  His  bosom  heaved, 
and  His  eye  filled:  'Jesus  wept.' 

Marvellous  spectacle  !  Jesus  wept,  as  the  mourn- 
ers about  Him  wept !  The  sight  of  such  sorrow 
overpowered  Him,  and  He  could  not  refrain.  That 
was  a  true  manhood,  which  felt  this  touch  of  nature, 
and  burst  into  tears.  There  was  no  Stoicism  in  His 
constitution.  There  was  no  attempt  to  train  down 
His  sympathies,  and  educate  Himself  to  a  hard  and 
inhuman  indifference.  ^N'either  was  He  ashamed  of 
His  possession  of  our  ordinary  sensibilities.  He 
felt  it  no  weakness  to  weep  in  public  with  them  that 
wept.  So  sinful  did  sin  appear  in  its  penalty  of 
death — so  saddening  was  the  desolation  which  death 
had  brought  into  that  happy  home — so  humbling 
was  the  picture  of  Lazarus,  alive  and  active  but  a 
few  days  before,  but  now  laid  in  the  narrow  vault, 
and  carefully  concealed  from  view,  that  the  Saviour 
bowed  to  the  stroke,  and  in  the  impulse  of  genuine 
sympathy,  'Jesus  wept.'  Perhaps  the  prospect  of 
His  own  death  and  entombment  rose  up  suddenly 
before  Him  —  the  thought  that  He  should  soon  be 
as  Lazarus  now  was,  a  cold  and  inanimate  corpse, 
with  weeping  mourners  making  a  similar  procession 
to  His  tomb.  And  though  He  had  but  to  take  a 
few  steps  more,  and  the  greatest  of  His  miracles 
should  be  achieved,  and  he  that  was  dead  should  be 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         307 

raised  —  so  powerful  and  tender  were  Ilis  mingled 
sensations,  that  'Jesus  wept.' 

Shall  we  use  the  common  term,  and  say  that  He 
was,  '  unmanned  ?'  ISTo.  Such  an  epithet  originates 
in  a  grievous  misinterpretation  of  our  nature.  Is 
man  to  be  denied  the  relief  of  tears,  and  woman 
only  to  be  so  privileged  ?  Is  it  beneath  his  mascu- 
line robustness  to  show  a  moistened  eye  ?  Is  he  to 
be  a  traitor  to  deepest  and  purest  emotion,  and  to 
attempt  to  cauterise  the  fountain  of  tears  ?  No, 
Christ,  the  model  of  manhood,  the  mirror  of  all 
that  was  noble  and  dignified,  did  not  deny  Himself 
the  relief;  and  shall  men  be  looked  upon  as  efi:emi- 
nate,  as  falling  from  the  dignity  of  their  sex,  if, 
Avith  emotions  like  Christ,  they  shed  tears  like  Him? 
ISTo.  Perish  that  dignity  which  would  aspire  to  a 
transcendental  apathy  that  man  was  not  made  for, 
and  which  Jesus  despised.  The  tear  is  as  genuine 
as  the  smile.  He  who  would  do  such  violence  to 
his  nature,  insults  his  Creator,  and  would  foolishly 
set  himself  above  the  example  of  his  Redeemer. 
Instead  of  raising  himself  above  humanity,  he  sinks 
beneath  its  level.  The  brow  that  never  wore  a 
smile,  is  not  more  unnatural  than  the  eye  that  never 
glistened  with  a  tear. 

Therefore  do  we  vindicate  for  the  afflicted  mourner 
the  privilege  of  tears.  You  are  not  giving  way  to 
sin,  when  you  are  giving  way  to  tears.  Man  is  not 
disgracing  his  manhood,  nor  woman  showing  her- 
self to  be  but  a  woman,  when  they  weep  under  be- 
reavement.    Try  not  to  be  above  the  Saviour.     It 


308  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

is  not  sin  to  mourn,  but  the  sin  is  to  murmur  —  to 
fall  into  querulous  repining,  as  if  God  had  wronged 
you,  and  it  needed  an  effort  on  your  part  to  forgive 
Him.  We  are  sure  that  Jesus  harboured  no  grudge 
of  this  nature  against  His  Father  in  Heaven ;  and 
yet  He  wept.  To  forbid  tears  is  to  impose  a  cruel 
penance  —  is  to  deny  a  luxury  to  the  mourner  in 
which  his  Lord  indulged.  O  thou  of  the  bruised- 
heart,  when  thou  goest  to  the  sepulchre  where  the 
beloved  dust  is  garnered,  weep,  but  not  in  dejection 
—  weep,  but  repine  not ;  disturb  not  the  unbidden 
tear,  as  thou  art  in  the  place  of  burials.  The  dust 
thou  sorrowest  over  cannot  indeed  respond ;  but  the 
time  is  coming  when  thy  tears  shall  be  wiped  away 
by  the  very  hand  that  inflicted  the  stroke. 

Did  Jesus  ever  smile  ?  The  question  is  superflu- 
ous. His  brow  had  not  always  a  cloud  upon  it. 
He  was  no  anchorite ;  He  came  '  eating  and  drink- 
ing,' and  He  wrought  his  first  miracle  at  a  marriage 
feast.  But  there  is  no  record  that  He  did  smile, 
and  there  needed  none.  But  He  wept,  and  we  are 
told  of  it ;  for  it  might  be  surmised  that  One  so 
pure  might  be  above  the  reach  of  all  infirmity — that 
One  who  healed  disease  might  be  untouched  by  the 
aspect  of  it ;  and  that  He  who  had  shown  His  power 
over  death,  might  be  disturbed  by  no  human  emo- 
tions in  view  of  the  tomb.  But  lest  we  should  as- 
sociate such  callousness  with  perfection,  and  reckon 
His  elevation  of  character  a  proof  that  He  could  not 
stoop  to  be  touched  by  the  sorrows  of  a  sinful  world, 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         309 

the  shortest  verse  of  scripture  tells  us  that  '  Jesus 
wept.' 

These  tears  are  proof  of  His  genuine  humanity, 
that  Tie  was  moved  as  we  are  moved  to  weep.  Had 
that  humanity  been  of  a  higher  order  than  ours,  or 
been  a  mere  phantom  in  the  guise  of  man,  such  as 
that  which  an  angel  might  take  upon  him,  the  spec- 
tacle of  the  weeping  Saviour  would  never  have, 
given  assurance  of  Ilis  sympathy  to  the  world.  Let 
not  the  spectators  of  Ilis  life  imagine  that  He  can- 
not be  '  touched  with  the  feeling  of  their  infirmi- 
ties.' As  they  hear  Him  speak  in  those  tones  of 
sublimity,  and  rebuke  in  those  accents  of  sternness, 
they  may  say  of  Him,  *  not  a  man,  but  more  than 
a  man.'  As  they  see  Him  still  the  winds  and  walk 
upon  the  waves,  hush  the  demoniac  and  feed  the 
crowds,  their  inward  thought  may  again  be,  '  not  a 
man,  but  more  than  a  man.'  Or  again,  when  they 
behold  Him  seeming  to  disown  all  relationship  of 
blood  with  His  mother.  His  brothers,  and  His  sisters, 
and  affirming  that  a  true  disciple  was  to  Him  as 
'brother,  sister,  and  mother,'  the  conclusion  would 
only  be  strengthened,  '  not  a  man,  but  either  difter- 
ent  from  humanity,  or  far  above  it.'  But  did  they 
follow  Him  on  this  journey  to  Bethany,  and  watch 
Him  as  He  spoke  arguments  of  consolation  to 
Martha,  and  breathed  His  words  of  sympathy  into 
the  ear  of  Mary ;  and  did  they  accompany  Him  to 
the  tomb  of  Lazarus,  and  mark  that  as  His  bosom 
heaved,  His  countenance  quivered,  and  His  eyes  at 
length  overflowed,  would  they  not  retract  their  pre- 


310  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

vious  inference,  and  crj,  'Yes,  more  than  a  man  it 
may  be,  but  beyond  all  doubt  a  man  still  —  the 
wearer  of  a  real  humanity?'  And  therefore  the 
mourners  may  reckon  on  His  sympathy.  These 
tears  were  shed  not  for  Himself,  but  for  the  sorrows 
of  others. 

Many  have  wept  for  themselves,  and  some  with 
selfish  intensity.  As  she  cast  her  son  under  a  shrub 
to  die,  Hagar  wept  for  her  loss.  When  Esau  found 
that  he  had  been  forestalled  in  his  father's  blessing, 
the  chivalrous  hunter  wept  under  his  disappoint- 
ment. The  wife  of  Samson  employed  her  tears  as 
her  best  weapon  of  victory  over  her  weak-minded 
spouse.  Hannah  wept  under  the  taunts  and  provo- 
cation of  her  domestic  rival.  The  king  and  his 
people  wept  as  they  were  forced  into  exile  by  the 
unnatural  rebellion  of  Absalom.  Often,  too,  have 
tears  been  shed  under  a  sense  of  pain  and  bereave- 
ment. 'Abraham  came  to  mourn  for  Sarah,  and  to 
weep  for  her.'  The  face  of  Job  was  'foul  with 
weeping.'  Eachel  is  depicted  as  '  weeping  for  her 
children,  and  refusing  to  be  comforted.'  David 
wept  over  his  dying  child ;  and  Hezekiah,  as  he  felt 
himself  under  sentence  of  death,  '  turned  his  face 
to  the  wall,  and  wept  sore.'  But  tears  have  also 
sprung  from  other  than  selfish  sources.  Joseph 
wept  once  and  again  as  he  beheld  his  brethren,  and 
a  flood  of  early  and  tender  recollections  rushed  upon 
him.  Job  says  of  himself,  '  Did  I  not  weep  for  him 
that  was  in  trouble?'  and  his  own  friends,  when 
they  came  to  comfort  him,  and  could  scarcely  re- 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.  311 

cognise  him,  Mifted  up  their  voice  and  wept.'  In 
the  bonds  of  a  pure  and  steady  friendship,  Jonathan 
and  David  *wept  with  one  another,  until  David  ex- 
ceeded ;'  and  after  he  ascended  the  throne,  he  was 
moved  to  tears  at  the  grave  of  Abner,  and  with  him 
'all  the  people  wept.'  Under  the  reproof  of  the 
angel,  the  camp  of  Israel  wept  so  violently  that  the 
place  was  called  Bochim,  or  the  scene  of  weepers. 
Elisha  wept  as  his  mind's  eye  took  in  the  future 
atrocities  of  Ilazael.  The  captives  mingled  their 
tears  with  the  streams  of  Babel.  As  Jeremiah 
thought  of  the  desolation  of  his  country,  he  wished 
that  his  head  were  '  waters'  and  his  eyes  '  a  fountain 
of  tears.'  The  priests  who  had  seen  the  first  temple, 
wept  at  the  inauguration  of  the  second  and  humbler 
edifice.  Peter  wept  as  the  look  of  Christ  entered 
his  soul,  and  the  Ephesian  elders  taking  farewell 
of  the  apostle  at  Miletus,  '  fell  upon  his  neck,  and 
wept.' 

But  the  tears  of  Jesus  were  those  of  purest  sym- 
pathy, and  He  was  moved  to  them  by  the  tears  of 
others.  May  not  those  who  weep  be  assured  that 
their  tears  will  still  command  His  fellow-feeling  — 
that  He  will  'hear  the  voice  of  their  weeping?' 

For  what  a  variety  of  sufiering  our  Lord  passed 
through  !  —  such  experience  being  the  basis  of  His 
sympathy.  For  sympathy  is  not  innate  goodness, 
it  is  acquired  from  suffering.  It  belongs  not  to  the 
Father,  but  it  has  opened  a  place  for  itself  in  the 
bosom  of  the  Son —  'In  that  He  Himself, hath  suf- 
fered, being  tried,  and  He  is  able  to  succour  them 


812  THE  DIVINE  LOVE. 

that  are  tried.'  Are  any  of  you  in  poverty  ?  He 
had  not  where  to  lay  His  head  ;  His  cradle  belonged 
to  the  beasts,  and  His  corpse  lay  in  a  borrowed 
grave.  Is  any  one  frowned  upon  by  the  world? 
'He  was  despised  and  rejected  of  men.'  Do  you 
complain  of  Satan's  malignant  assaults  ?  Ah,  He 
knew  the  hour  and  felt  the  'power  of  darkness.' 
Does  there  seem  to  be  an  eclipse  on  3'our  Father's 
face  ?  O  listen  to  that  awful  wail,  '  M}^  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?'  Or  is  it  that 
suifering  lies  heavily  upon  you,  and  your  fevered 
lips  are  parched,  and  long  to  be  moistened?  He 
felt  the  same  sensation,  and  cried,  'I  thirst.'  Or 
must  it  be  that  when  you  come  to  die  there  will  be 
a  new  and  terrible  bitterness  in  death,  in  that  you 
leave  behind  you  those  so  near  and  so  dear  to  you 
w^holly  unprovided  for?  Did  not  He  suffer  a 
similar  pang,  sharper  than  any  of  the  nails  that 
pierced  Him  ?  and  from  His  cross  He  commended 
His  ao^ed  and  widowed  mother  to  the  care  of  the 
beloved  disciple.  Or  perhaps  bereavement  has  been 
producing  desolation  of  soul.  Is  it  a  father  who 
has  laid  in  the  grave  his  child  of  winning  looks,  and 
in  the  first  bloom  of  existence?  Or  has  death 
snatched  from  thee  a  youth  as  he  was  ripening  into 
a  manhood  so  like  thine  own,  or  a  daughter,  the 
lovely  memorial  of  a  mother  under  whose  prema- 
ture decease  thou  hast  bowed  and  wept  ?  Or  is  it  a 
mother  grieving  over  the  babe,  that  still  clung  to 
her  bosom  as  its  fountain  of  life ;  or  over  the  boy, 
whose  rosy  lips  w^ere  learning  to  lisp  out  her  name, 


THE    FIIIENDSIIIP    OF   JESUS.  313 

and  prattle  in  the  witchery  of  broken  language  on 
her  knee ;  or  over  that  little  girl,  whose  ways  and 
works  have  reminded  her  so  often  of  her  own  maiden 
years  ?  Or  it  may  be  that  death  has  severed  that 
union  which  is  significantly  called  ^  one  flesh,'  and 
the  husband  sees  his  other  self  laid  low  in  the  dust. 
Or,  alas  !  it  is  the  widow,  in  lonely  sorrow,  bereaved 
indeed  —  deprived,  in  one  hour,  of  partner  and 
friend,  shield  and  provider  —  an  empty  hearth  and 
an  unfurnished  table  —  a  dark  present  and  a  darker 
future.  Or  is  it  the  child  that  has  followed  a 
parent's  remains  to  the  dark  and  narrow  house  — 
those  of  a  father  who  had  watched  its  budding 
years,  and  trained  it  with  affectionate  success  —  or 
those  of  a  mother,  of  all  names  the  holiest  and  ten- 
derest,  whose  every  look  beamed  with  love,  and 
whose  smile  will  remain  for  ever  engraven  on  the 
memory  ?  Whichever  of  these  forms  of  bereave- 
ment oppresses  you,  0  be  comforted  by  the  thought 
that  '  Jesus  wept' — that  He  w^ho  so  wept  is  still  un- 
changed in  nature — that  the  heart  which  was  so 
troubled  is  as  susceptible  now  as  then,  and  will  beat 
in  unison  and  sympathy  with  jou  under  such  trials 
and  sorrows.  What  a  comforter  is  the  Elder 
Brother!  who  knows  what  it  is  to  be  bereaved, 
and  will,  out  of  such  experience,  soothe  and  solace 
His  people.  ^N'ay  more,  for  eighteen  hundred  years 
the  man  Jesus  has  been  employed  in  binding  up 
the  bleeding  in  heart,  and  heahng  all  their  wounds. 
Every  variety  of  grief  He  has  dealt  with,  and  with 
every  element  and  form  of  it  He  is  perfectly  familiar. 
27 


314  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

If  there  be  power  in  human  sympathy  to  lighten  the 
load  of  woe,  0  how  mucii  more  in  the  sympathy  of 
Him  who  'bore  our  griefs  and  carried  our  sorrows' 
—  whose  words  of  comfort  reach  the  heart  —  who 
gives  Himself  to  be  loved  in  room  of  the  object 
taken  away — and  gathers  the  departed  into  a  blessed 
company  before  the  throne,  with  the  prospect  of  a 
happy  and  unclouded  reunion !  Let  the  mourner 
never  forget  the  image  of  the  weeping  Saviour.  O 
how  it  will  reassure  him,  and  fill  him  with  unspeak- 
able consolation  !  Thou  weepest  —  but  '  Jesus 
WEPT  !' 

y.  But  we  remark  in  the  last  place,  that  the 
Friendship  of  Jesus  is  not  interrupted  by  Death. 
What  breaks  up  all  other  ties  has  no  such  effect 
upon  it.  It  survives  that  shock,  which,  from  its 
awful  power,  men  have  named  dissolution,  as  it  un- 
binds every  connection  and  relationship.  Even  that 
union  founded  in  Eden,  and  chosen  from  its  close- 
ness to  symbolise  the  oneness  of  Christ  with  His 
church,  is,  according  to  the  apostle,  so  completely 
sundered  by  death,  that,  the  husband  being  dead, 
the  wife  is  '  loosed  from  the  law  of  her  husband,' 
and  free  to  be  '  married  to  another  man.'  Friends 
walk  arm-in-arm,  till  they  come  to  the  tomb,  and 
then  one  of  them  resumes  his  solitary  path.  The 
family  presents  a  happy  and  a  numerous  circle ; 
but  years  roll  on,  and  death  comes  in  and  thins  it, 
till  at  length  but  one  is  left,  the  sole  survivor  of  his 
father's  house.     All  societies  experience  the  same 


THE    FRIENDSHIP  --OF   JESUS.  315 

constant  changes,  and  ever  and  anon  some  one 
stands  out  in  the  isolation  of  a  hoary  age,  the  last 
representative  of  a  bygone  generation.  Who  has 
not  felt  link  after  link  giving  way  round  about  him  ; 
and  when  he  thinks  of  his  friends,  how  many  of 
them  are  now  in  eternity!  That  companion  of 
youth,  that  iViend  of  riper  years,  that  colleague  in 
office,  that  partner  in  business,  that  neighbour  or 
fellow-traveller  —  ah,  how  soon  you  miss  them!  — 
death  has  intervened,  and  all  connection  is  severed. 
They  are  associated  in  the  memory  of  the  past :  but 
the  hearty  embrace  is  to  be  felt  no  more  —  no  more 
the  voice  of  wisdom  will  be  heard,  or  the  courtesies 
of  social  hfe  exchanged.  Each  one  feels,  '  I  shall 
go  to  him,  but  he  shall  not  return  to  me.'  How 
often  in  general  conversation  does  the  expression 
turn  up,  'our  late  friend,' — a  confession  that  such 
friendship  in  its  earthly  form  is  for  ever  at  an  end. 

*My  thoughts  are  with  the  dead,  ^vith  them 
I  live  in  long  past  years, 
Their  virtues  love,  their  faults  condemn, 
Partake  their  hopes  and  fears. 

*My  hopos  are  with  the  dead  —  anon 
My  place  with  them  shall  be : 
And  I  with  them  shall  travel  on 
Through  all  futurity.' 

But  the  friendship  of  Christ  brooks  not  any  in- 
terruption. Our  Lord  said  of  him  who  had  died, 
'  Our  friend  Lazareth  sleepeth.'  lie  recognised  the 
friendship  as  still  existing.     Lazarus  was  yet  His 


316  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

friend,  after  lie  had  expired  —  His  friend  after  he 
had  been  entombed.  And  He  proved  the  reahty 
of  that  enduring  friendship.  In  spite  of  the  enmity 
existing  against  Him  'in  Jewry,'  He  went  to  Beth- 
any, spoke  with  both  his  sisters,  and  proceeded  to 
the  tomb.  Then  He  wept  with  the  mourners,  whose 
sorrow  had  again  broken  out  at  the  place  where, 
but  a  few  days  before,  they  had  laid  the  dead  in  the 
dust.  In  profound  and  mysterious  agitation,  Jesus 
approached  the  sepulchral  cave,  commanded  the 
stone  to  be  rolled  aw^ay,  and,  as  tears  almost  choked 
His  utterance.  He  offered  up  a  brief  prayer  to  His 
Father.  Then  rolled  from  His  hps  those  brief  words 
of  power,  Lazarus  come  forth,  and  Lazarus  obey- 
ing came  forth  arrayed  as  he  had  been  buried. 
What  a  thrill,  approaching  to  alarm,  must  have  shot 
through  the  spectators  as  they  beheld  the  apparition 
of  the  moving  grave-clothes.  With  what  curiosity 
they  must  have  gazed  upon  that  face  w^hen  the 
napkin  was  removed  ;  and  with  what  strange  sensa- 
tions they  who  perhaps  had  wrapped  him  in  his 
winding  sheet  helped  now  to  unroll  it,  and  saw 
again  the  free  action  of  hand  and  limb  !  We  can- 
not, though  we  would,  conjecture  the  conflicting 
emotions  of  Lazarus  as  he  awoke  at  the  voice  of 
friendship.  His  last  agony  as  he  died,  the  couch 
at  Bethany,  and  his  weeping  sisters,  would  be  asso- 
ciated in  his  memory  with  the  feeling  of  unaccount- 
able relief  as  he  rose.  And  then  on  his  sudden  re- 
storation to  consciousuess  to  find  himself  in  the 
garb  of  a  corpse,  lying  in  the  family  tomb,  the  vaults 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.  317 

of  parents  and  relations  round  about  him,  and  mak- 
ing wliat  citbrt  he  could,  tightly  swathed  as  he  was, 
to  come  out  to  the  light  of  day.  Nor  could  he  per- 
haps fully  comprehend  the  scene  as  he  saw  Martha 
and  Mary,  the  mourners,  Jesus,  and  His  disciples, 
in  groups  round  about  himself — an  object  as  much 
of  wonder  as  affection.  How  the  leal  heart  of  Mary 
would  turn  from  her  brother  to  Christ,  and  feel 
Ilim  to  be  in  truth  a  friend  !  When  the  command 
to  loose  him  was  given,  Martha's  busy  hands  would 
soon  assist  in  performing  the  task;  but  the  deep 
feeling  of  Mary's  heart  would  hold  her  in  motion- 
less rapture  and  gratitude.  Truly  Christ  proved 
Himself  'a  friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  bro- 
ther,' or  even  a  sister.  The  sisters  had  laid  Lazarus 
in  his  grave,  and  left  him  there  ;  they  could  stick  no 
longer  to  him,  save  in  spirit  and  memory:  but 
Christ's  friendship  was  not  to  be  barred  out  by  the 
sepulchre,  and  He  brought  His  dead  friend  back  to 
fellowship  and  life.  They  had  spent  some  evenings 
without  their  brother ;  but  Christ  w^ould  spend  none 
in  Bethany  without  him,  and  so  He  filled  the  vacant 
seat  with  its  former  occupant,  ere  He  entered  their 
house.  The  circle  w^as  not  complete  without  Laza- 
rus ;  Jesus  w^ould  have  him  by  His  side,  and  there- 
fore He  raised  him. 

Will  it  be  doubted  that  Christ's  friendship  dic- 
tated the  miracle  ?  The  entire  record  seems  to  prove 
that  this  mightiest  of  His  works  sprang  from  His 
attachment  and  sympathy.     His  friendship  descend- 
27* 


318  THE    DIVINE   LOVE. 

ed  to  the  grave,  and  brought  up  again  its  object. 
]N"or  is  it  otherwise  now :  Jesus  is  unchanged. 

The  objects  of  Christ's  affection,  when  taken  out 
of  the  world,  are  brought  into  closer  nnion  wath 
Himself.  "We  feel  that  death  puts  an  end  to  oar 
friendships ;  but  Christ's  friendship  only  moves  a 
step  closer  when  mortality  intervenes.  It  is  not  for 
a  moment  suspended.  The  spirit  rises  to  Himself, 
to  the  enjoyment  of  His  presence,  and  to  forms  of 
intercourse  and  endearment  whicb  cannot  now  be 
imagined.  So  it  w^as  in  the  history  of  Enoch  :  to- 
day he  '  w^alked  with  God'  on  earth — to-morrow  he 
walked  with  Him  in  heaven.  So  far  then  from  sever- 
ing Christ  and  His  friends,  death  only  destroys  the 
distance  existing  between  them,  and  brings  them 
face  to  face.  Kor  is  the  body  forgotten  or  dismis- 
sed from  His  regards.  It  is  His,  and  He  claims  it, 
though  it  be  in  the  tomb.  What  He  did  for  Laza- 
rus, He  will  do  for  it ;  a}-,  and  more.  He  will  call 
it  forth  from  its  concealment.  His  power  will  not 
fail  to  achieve  its  resurrection,  though  it  have  lain 
centuries  in  the  tomb,  and  have  long  faded  away 
into  dust.  And  it  will  be  raised  a  glorious  struc- 
ture—  flexile,  ethereal,  spiritual,  and  immortal  — 
fitted  for  the  pure  soul  which  shall  again  inhabit  it, 
and  capable  of  enjoying  Christ's  friendship  without 
fatigue  and  without  end.  It  is  said  of  Lazarus 
after  he  had  been  raised,  that  on  one  occasion  he 
*sat  at  meat'  with  Jesus;  but  the  glorified  saints 
shall  have  an  endless  feast  with  Him  in  His  ban- 
queting chamber,  and  His  banner  over  them  shall 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         319 

be  love.  Tradition  reports  of  Lazarus,  that  after 
this  solemn  crisis  in  his  life,  he  was  never  seen 
again  to  smile ;  the  occupant  of  the  tomb  could 
never  throw  off  the  shadow  of  death.  But  His 
friends  are  for  ever  to  be  happy  with  Him  —  no 
vestige  of  their  previous  mortality  clings  to  them, 
for  they  have  shaken  themselves  so  completely  from 
the  dust  —  and  the}^  live  and  love  Mvith  songs  and 
everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads.'  Did  not  Lazarus 
descend  again  to  the  tomb  at  his  appointed  time  ? 
Those,  however,  raised  by  His  love  at  the  last  day, 
are  for  ever  beyond  the  attack  of  disease,  and  above 
the  stroke  of  death.  And  thus  they  are  with  Him 
—  ever  with  Him — in  His  presence,  and  under  His 
smile. 

And  now,  how  shall  we  compute  the  value  of 
Christ's  friendship,  and  by  what  means  shall  we  ac- 
quire an  interest  in  it  ?  The  unbelieving  heart  can 
have  no  share  in  it:  he  who  will  not  have  Christ  as 
Saviour,  cannot  enjoy  Him  as  friend.  Come  to 
Him,  then,  in  His  official  character,  and  you  will 
soon  possess  His  personal  regard.  Despair  of  your- 
selves, and  trust  in  Him,  and  He  will  admit  you  to 
His  confidence.  The  path  to  His  bosom  is  by  His 
cross.  Strive,  too,  to  be  like  Him  in  everything; 
and  if  you  two  are  so  agreed,  you  will  walk  together 
in  undivided  fellowship.  How  terrible  it  must  be 
to  have  Christ  for  a  foe  !  The  Lamb  of  God  is  also 
,the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah.  The  soul  which  is 
unlike  Him,  must  be  exiled  from  His  presence.     It 


320  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

shall  blast  itself,  and  the  whole  universe  shall  unite 
in  condemning  it. 

Ye  friends  of  Jesus,  stand  not  aloof,  but  surround 
Him  in  closer  circle.  Is  there  not  a  true  interchange 
of  thought  and  sentiment  between  you  and  Him  ? 
Prove  the  reality  of  your  friendship  by  doing  what- 
soever He  has  commanded  you.  Avow  it  and  glory 
in  it,  and  long  for  a  fuller  enjoyment  of  it.  Have 
ye  not  tasted  and  seen  that  it  is  good,  and  that  no 
earthly  tie  can  be  compared  with  it  ?  What  solace 
it  has  given  you  in  times  of  distress  and  bereave- 
ment !  You  may  have  had  trials,  but  you  had  His 
welcome  presence. 

'Hast  thou  lost  a  friend  or  brother? 

Seen  a  father's  parting  breath? 
Or  gazed  upon  a  lifeless  mother 

Till  she  seemed  to  start  from  death?' — 

Then  thou  knowest  how  thy  Friend  did  visit  thee, 
weep  with  thee,  and  cheer  thee ;  and  as  thou  re- 
memberest  w^hat  He  said  and  what  He  did,  thou 
wdlt  also  indulge  the  hope  that  the  missing  one  has 
gone  to  His  embrace,  and  that  the  grave,  now  filled 
and  closed  up,  will  give  back  its  tenant  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  resurrection.  Indulge  no  bitter  regrets 
— use  not  the  cold  and  unmeaning  language  of  the 
w^orld  —  give  way  to  no  frantic  sorrow.  Let  those 
around  thee  see  that  the  Comforter  has  spoken  with 
thee.  And  in  that  better  w^orld  friendship  will 
never  be  broken  in  upon.  Immortality  is  stamped 
upon  it.     The  great  and  good  of  former  ages — Abel 


THE  FRIENDSHIP  OF  JESUS.         321 

• 

and  !N'oah,  Abraham  and  Moses,  David  and  Isaiah 
—  prophets  and  apostles,  saints  and  martyrs,  shall 
all  rejoice  in  undying  union  and  intercourse  with 
one  another  and  with  Christ.  0  to  he  found  at 
length  in  that  happy  company,  and  the  praise  shall 
be  Thine,  Thou  Friend  of  Friends.  To  Thee,  with 
the  Father  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  be  all  glory,  for 
ever  and  ever.     Amen. 


THE   DIVINE    LOVE. 


LECTURE  XII, 


THE  LOVE  OF  CHRIST   THE    SUSTAINING   MOTIVE   IN   THE 
MISSIONARY  ENTERPRISE. 

AN    APPEAL. 

*And  he  said  unto  them,  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,  and  'preach  the 

Gospel  to  every  creature.' — Mark  xvi.  15. 
^He  that  hath  my  commandments,  and  Jceepeth  them,  he  it  is  that 

loveth  me' — John  xiv.  21. 
'For  the  love  of  Christ  consiraineth  us.' — 2  Cor.  v.  14. 

'The  love  of  Christ,'  in  the  last  clause  quoted,  is 
Christ's  love  to  us,  and  it  '  constraineth  us'  to  earn- 
est self-consecration.  His  love  proved  its  fervour 
in  His  death  —  that  death  brings  life  to  us  —  and  a 
life  so  originated  is  to  be  devoted  '  not  to  ourselves, 
but  to  him  who  died  for  us,  and  who  rose  again.' 
Such  a  result  springs  from  our  deliberate  decision — 
'we  thus  judge;'  for  it  is  but  a  reasonable  thing 
that  they  who  live  by  Christ  should  live  to  Him. 
The  cross  unites  them  to  Him  who  bled  upon  it  for 
tbem,  and  creates  that  love  which  is  the  passion  of 
the  sanctified  heart,  and  comprises  in  it  the  sum  of 
Christian  ethics. 

*  Talk  they  of  morals,  0  Thou  bleeding  Lamb  — 
The  grand  morality  is  love  of  Thee  !' 


THE   MISSIONARY   ENTERPRISE.  323 

It  is  SO  in  all  duty,  as  the  one  grand  motive  is  love ; 
we  engage  in  it,  for  ^  the  love  of  Christ  constraineth 
us.'  It  is  especially  so  in  that  sphere  of  duty  which 
we  propose  to  illustrate  and  enforce. 

The  motive  which  ought  to  guide  you  and  prompt 
you  in  the  prosecution  of  the  missionary  enterprise, 
you  will  find  in  the  love  of  Christ.  Motive  is 
moving  power,  and  in  proportion  to  its  strength  and 
purity  will  be  the  amount  of  result,  or  the  extent 
of  success.  If  it  be  feeble  —  if  it  be  only  a  quiet 
inducement,  it  will  scarcely  arouse  the  spirit  to 
labour;  and  if  it  be  not  the  offspring  of  intelligence 
and  faith,  then  it  is  only  a  mere  excitement,  which 
shall  live  out  its  brief  and  fitful  fever,  and  soon  die 
of  collapse.  Motives  of  such  a  nature  have  had 
their  day  and  their  influence.  At  the  commence- 
ment of  modern  missions  there  was  novelty.  All 
hearts  were  stirred,  and  the  charm  of  romance  was 
thrown  around  the  work.  It  seemed  to  be  the  be- 
ginning of  a  new  era  —  the  dawning  of  the  pro- 
mised jubilee.  But  this  epoch  of  admiration  has 
passed  away,  and  must  be  succeeded  by  the  epoch 
of  labour.  At  first,  too,  men  formed  sanguine  an- 
ticipations, thought  of  rapid  and  extensive  conquests, 
dreamed  of  a  sure  and  speedy  millennium,  and  saw 
in  fancy  idols  burnt,  temples  ruined,  altars  over- 
turned, paganism  subverted,  Judaism  restored,  and 
the  reign  of  Christianity  universally  established. 
But  these  immediate  results  have  not  followed  in  all 
their  fulness,  and,  therefore,  the  era  of  unwarranted 
expectation  must  be  followed  by  an  era  of  positive 


324  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

and  persevering  industry  and  toil.  What  we  want 
now  is  a  moving  power  which  shall  not  soon  or 
easil}'  expend  its  energies  ;  which  shall  not  faint  in 
the  midst  of  difficulties,  but  shall  ever  be  fanned 
into  mightier  strength  by  the  blasts  of  opposition. 
What  we  want  is  a  motive  which  combines  perse- 
verance with  enthusiasm,  which  grows  bolder  in  the 
midst  of  discouragement,  and  which  persists,  and 
still  persists,  with  all  the  ardour  and  freshness  of  a 
first  love,  till  the  end  be  achieved.  It  is  such  a  mo- 
tive in  living  force  and  duration,  as  ruled  the  spirit 
of  Columbus,  when  he  turned  the  prow  of  his 
barque  to  the  west,  and  held  on  cheerily  and  stead- 
ily in  the  same  direction,  and  fainted  not  amidst 
growing  murmurs  and  dissatisfaction,  but  still  steer- 
ed toward  the  setting  sun  under  strange  skies  and 
amidst  unexplored  waters,  till  drift  and  sea-weed 
told  him  that  he  was  nearing  land ;  and  then,  as 
his  vessel  grazed  the  beach,  the  mariner  leapt  out 
in  the  fulness  of  his  joy,  and  took  possession  of  a 
new  world.  Thus,  let  the  church,  under  the  firm 
persuasion  that  she  is  doing  the  will  of  God,  engage 
in  this  glorious  work ;  let  her  gather  faith  from  pro- 
mise and  prophecy  ;  let  her,  like  her  own  illustrious 
Head,  'not  faint  nor  be  discouraged'  till  she  have 
set  judgment  in  the  earth;  let  her  not  be  intimi- 
dated by  obstacles,  nor  dismayed  either  by  scanty 
success,  the  fickleness  of  heathen  converts,  the  death 
of  missionaries,  or  the  languor  and  avarice  of  so 
many  of  her  own  adherents  at  home ;  let  the  one 
motive  fill  her,  and  then,  by  God's  blessing,  and  in 


THE    MISSIONARY   ENTERPRISE.  325 

God's  good  time,  she  shall  achieve  the  conquest  of 
the  globe. 

And  whence  shall  this  motive  be  brought  but  from 
the  cross?  There  is  only  one  source,  and  that  is 
love  to  Christ.  It  is  when  '  the  love  of  Christ  con- 
straineth  us,'  and  we  'thus  judge'  ourselves  to  be 
under  solemn  obligation  to  live  to  Ilim,  that  we  are 
furnished  with  power  sufficient  to  labour  w^ithout' 
weariness,  and  with  the  prospect  of  success.  This 
is  a  power  which  should  be  in  every  heart,  in  all  its 
impetuous  majesty.  For  were  it  there,  then  it 
would  induce  us  to  contemplate  the  spiritual  wants 
of  the  world  in  the  spirit  of  Christ.  If  we  loved 
Him,  w^e  should  love  whatever  He  loves ;  and  be 
disposed  to  form  the  same  views  of  man  and  of  the 
world  as  He  does.  He  loved  the  world,  and  died 
for  its  salvation  ;  shall  not  w^e,  who  love  Him,  love 
the  same  world,  and  commiserate  its  want  of  a  salva- 
tion provided  in  the  Saviour's  blood?  What  we 
now  complain  of  is,  that  men  so  often  survey  the 
world  in  all  its  aspects  but  that  of  spiritual  want. 
The  world  is  often  under  the  eye  of  science,  but 
how  seldom  under  that  of  compassionate  Christian- 
ity! We  hear  much  of  its  population  and  their 
manners,  of  its  soils  and  their  capabilities,  of  its 
various  climates  and  their  peculiarities,  its  rivers 
and  their  navigation,  its  kingdoms  and  their  policy; 
yet  how  seldom  does  the  common  traveller,  the 
physical  geographer,  or  the  statist  dwell  upon  the 
evils  produced  by  the  want  of  the  gospel !  You  are 
told  of  the  brawny  Indian  of  North  America  —  his 
28 


326  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

noble  form  and  warlike  mien,  his  stoical  endurance 
of  suffering,  and  his  hope  of  a  future  spirit-land. 
There  is  pictured  to  you  the  Mahomedan,  his  fierce 
hatred  of  idolatry,  his  oriental  origin,  and  his  fierce 
conquests,  which  resemble  the  dreams  of  romance 
in  their  rapidity  and  extent.  And  you  are  remind- 
ed of  the  Jew,  of  his  cringing  temper  and  love  of 
money,  of  the  cruelties  he  has  undergone,  and  of 
the  slavery  to  which,  in  spite  of  his  gold,  he  has 
been  subjected.  And  yet  there  are  too  often  kept 
back  from  your  view  the  wretchedness,  cruelty,  and 
degradation  of  the  godless  pagan  —  the  licentious- 
ness and  fanaticism  of  the  Moslem  —  and  the  pro- 
mises made  to  the  '  children  of  the  covenant,'  when 
God  shall  bring  in  His  ancient  people  with  the  ful- 
ness of  the  gentile  nations.  Let  ns  therefore  view 
the  world  as  the  Christ  we  love  views  it  —  guilty, 
helpless,  and  miserable ;  but  with  a  salvation  pro- 
vided for  it  and  adapted  to  it  —  a  salvation  secured 
at  the  most  awful  expense,  and  waiting  the  period 
of  its  presentation  to  all  tribes  and  tongues.  Let 
the  churches  feel  what  the  world  is  in  want  of;  and 
feel  it  under  the  conviction  that  Christianity  alone 
can  meet  its  necessities.  For  commerce  and  civili- 
zation are  inadequate ;  they  cannot  educate  man's 
spiritual  nature.  You  may  send  through  the  world 
the  produce  of  the  looms  of  Glasgow  and  Manches- 
ter, and  of  the  forges  of  Shefiield  and  Birmingham, 
to  refine  and  civilize  its  myriads ;  but  yet  if  this 
iron  and  cloth  be  all  your  boon,  you  leave  them  still 
in  their  godless  and  hopeless  state.     Such  an  ex- 


THE    MISSIONARY    ENTERPRISE.  327 

tension  of  temporal  blessings  may  bind  the  demon, 
but  it  cannot  expel  liim.  To  every  one,  therefore, 
who  surveys  the  spiritual  condition  of  the  globe, 
and  feels  what  its  wants  are,  and  how  alone  they 
can  be  met  and  gratified,  there  will  appear,  as  to 
Paul,  not  one  but  many  imploring  him, '  Come  over 
and  help  us.' 

And  what  help  shall  you  carry  to  them  ?  Shall 
you  teach  them  to  name  and  number  the  stars,  and 
say  nothing  of  the  heaven  that  stretches  above  and 
beyond  them  ?  Shall  you  show  them  how  to  change 
a  hut  into  a  house,  without  leading  them  to  the 
knowledge  and  hope  of  the  '  building  of  God,'  the 
mansion  of  eternal  bliss?  No.  Science  without 
religion  is  an.  eyeless  giant,  and  without  its  impulse 
art  might  show  its  genius  and  power  in  erecting  and 
adorning  temples  for  false  divinities.  'Ye  that 
make  mention  of  the  Lord  keep  not  silence,  and 
give  'him  no  rest,  till  he  establish  and  till  he  make 
Jerusalem  a  praise  in  the  earth.'  Let  the  point  of 
this  prayer  impress  you :  Jerusalem,  not  Athens, 
the  scene  of  intellectual  splendour,  nor  Eome,  the 
type  of  martial  greatness,  nor  London,  the  mart  of 
a  world's  merchandise ;  but  Jerusalem,  the  ancient 
city  of  God  — '  till  he  make  Jerusalem  a  praise  in 
the  earth.'  So  long  as  there  is  a  child  without  its 
school,  or  a  man  without  his  Bible,  or  a  village 
without  its  pulpit ;  so  long  shall  this  prayer  be  pre- 
sented by  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus — who  see 
the  world  as  He  sees  it,  and  love  His  salvation  as 
He  loves  it. 


328  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

Eor  can  you  fail  to  look  at  the  means  to  bo  em- 
ploj^ed.  This  instrumentality  is  of  Christ's  appoint- 
ment—  the  result  of  His  wisdom  and  love ;  and  it  is 
given  in  charge  to  you.  Thus  regarding  it,  your 
hearts  must  also  be  set  upon  it,  to  work  it  for  its 
great  design.  Already  have  we  alluded  to  it,  as 
'the  glorious  gospel,'  that  meets  every  want  of 
humanity,  and  is  fitted  and  offered  to  men  of  every 
colour  and  clime.  It  carries  with  it  the  choicest 
blessings.  It  brings  pardon  and  peace.  It  quiets 
the  conscience,  and  begets  the  hope  of  glory.  It 
makes  man  what  he  should  be  in  temper  and  action. 
It  clothes  present  obligation  in  the  most  impressive 
form,  for  it  places  all  duty  in  the  light  of  eternity. 
It  satisfies  our  cravings,  and  gives  the  soul  its  only 
portion.  It  is  God's  voice  as  it  speaks,  and  God's 
arm  as  it  guards  us.  In  it,  heaven  stoops  to  earth, 
to  raise  up  earth  to  itself  IsTor  is  it  cramped  with 
any  national  peculiarities.  What  fits  it  for  one 
man,  fits  it  for  every  man ;  what  adapts  it  to  Britain, 
adapts  it  to  Madagascar.  The  old  economy  was 
organised  but  for  one  people,  and  resembled  its  own 
Jordan,  which,  after  traversing  its  narrow  territory, 
lost  itself  in  a  sullen  lake.  But  Christianity  is  the 
river  of  water  of  life,  flowing  onward  with  undimin- 
ished current;  no  barrier  can  withstand  its  expan- 
sive energy,  no  time  nor  numbers  exhaust  its  pure 
and  copious  streams. 

Now,  the  motive  to  employ  this  instrumentality 
is  also  supplied.  It  is  not  set  before  you  that  you 
may  admire  it,  and  simply  handle  it  in  curiosity ; 


THE    MISSIONARY    ENTERPRISE.  329 

but  you  cannot  look  upon  it  without  being  impelled 
at  once  to  put  it  to  its  use,  for  you  look  at  it  as 
Christ  floes,  and  you  love  it  from  its  connection 
with  Ilim.  O  then,  by  the  value  of  an  immortal 
soul,  greater  by  far  than  that  of  the  physical  uni- 
verse —  by  the  love  you  bear  to  Ilim  who  loved  you 
and  gave  Himself  for  you — by  the  tears  and  prayers 
and  agony  which  secured  that  salvation  yourselves 
enjoy,  we  implore  you  to  send  the  gospel  to  a  per- 
ishing world.  0  seek  not  to  creep  up  to  heaven  in 
selfish  solitude ;  take  others  with  you.  Think  with 
what  you  have  been  entrusted.  So  far  as  means  go, 
the  conversion  of  the  world  is  in  your  power — within 
your  reach.  ISTot  that  any  power  on  earth  can  con- 
vert a  soul,  or  that  the  ordinances  of  the  church  can 
by  themselves  change  and  purify  the  heart.  This 
has,  indeed,  been  too  common  an  error.  It  is  in 
fact  the  very  essence  of  Popery.  Join  yourself  to 
the  church,  and  the  junction  will  unite  you  to  the 
Saviour,  is  the  motto  of  Rome  ;  but  the  spirit  of  the 
Bible  is,  Christ  first,  the  church  next.  For  union 
to  Christ  is  essentially  union  with  His  church :  ^  first 
to  the  Lord,'  and  afterward  'unto  us  by  the  will  of 
God.'  Every  one  in  Christ  is  a  member  of  His 
church ;  but  every  member  of  the  church  is  alas  not 
necessarily  in  Christ.  But  while  these  things  are 
so,  it  is  nevertheless  true  that  means  are  to  be  put 
forth ;  and  he  who  withholds  the  means  does  all  in 
his  power  to  frustrate  the  result.  '  For  whosoever 
shall  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  shall  be  saved. 
How  then  shall  they  call  on  him  in  whom  they 
28* 


330  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

have  not  believed  ?  and  how  shall  they  believe  in 
him  of  whom  they  have  not  heard  ?  and  how  shall 
they  hear  without  a  preacher  ?  And  how  shall  they 
preach  except  they  be  sent  ?  as  it  is  written,  How 
beautiful  are  the  feet  of  them  that  preach  the  gospel 
of  peace,  and  bring  glad  tidings  of  good  things !' 
The  concatenation  of  means  is  plain.  If  there  be 
no  mission,  there  is  no  preaching ;  if  there  is  no 
preaching,  then  there  is  no  hearing ;  if  no  hearing, 
then  no  faith  ;  if  no  faith,  then  no  prayer ;  and  if  no 
prayer,  then  no  salvation.  If  you  refuse  the  first, 
you  annihilate  all  that  follows.  Mere  mission  does 
not  save,  and  mere  preaching  does  not  save;  but 
saving  faith  and  prayer  depend  upon  mission  and 
preachiug.  You  cannot  command  faith — the  Spirit 
of  God  alone  can  create  it ;  but  you  can  organise 
the  ordinary  means  which  the  Spirit  does  employ 
for  its  origination.  So  that  if  you  employ  not  the 
means  which  are  in  your  power,  you  negative  the 
end  which  is  not  in  your  power.  How,  then,  will 
you  justify  yourselves  in  withholding  the  means  at 
the  starting  point  ?  But  you  cannot  withhold  this 
instrumentality,  if  you  breathe  His  Spirit — the  Sent 
of  God ;  if  you  look  upon  a  human  soul,  and  see  it 
made  in  God's  image,  and  feel  its  immeasurable 
value,  in  the  ransom-price  of  Calvary;  if  you  re- 
member the  change  which  has  passed  over  your- 
selves —  from  gloom  to  light,  from  misery  to  peace, 
from  death  to  life ;  and  reflect  that  such  a  change 
is  needed  by  the  heathen  as  much  as  by  you,  that 
the  means  of  its  production  are  at  your  disposal. 


THE    MISSIONARY   ENTERPRISE.  331 

and  that  you  are  solemnly  commanded  by  llim  you 
love  to  labour,  and  pray,  and  give,  that  the  Bible 
may  be  circulated,  the  church  extended,  and  the 
Redeemer  Himself  rewarded  and  glorified. 

In  fact,  the  saved  are  appointed  to  make  con- 
quests for  their  Saviour.  And  they  respond  to  the 
commission,  because  they  love  the  Master  and  love 
the  work.  They  long  to  see  His  glory  advanced, 
and  they  rejoice  to  clasp  in  brotherhood  the  par- 
takers of  the  '  common  salvation.'  They  know  that 
there  is  no  blessing  for  a  man  like  salvation ;  and 
that  though  he  has  all,  yet  if  he  is  without  it  he  is 
poor  indeed.  And  therefore  you  preach  Christ  to 
him.  The  preaching  may  not  be  from  your  own 
lips,  or  from  your  own  example,  but  it  may  be  from 
the  lips  of  another  sustained  by  your  liberality  and 
prayers.  Your  connection  with  this  duty  cannot  be 
sundered.  You  may  not  go  in  person  to  the  heathen, 
but  you  can  speak  to  the  irreligious  nearer  you. 
You  may  not  cross  the  seas,  but  you  have  a  per- 
sonal interest  in  the  missionary  adventurer.  For 
you  he  leaves  home  and  kindred,  and  it  is  only  in 
strict  justice  that  you  support  him.  Do  not,  there- 
fore, call  by  the  name  of  benevolence  what  is  a  work 
of  purest  equity,— that  he  who  labours  for  you  be 
compensated  by  you. 

So  that  giving  is  a  Christian  obligation,  l^ot 
only  ought  you  to  support  those  who  labour  for  you, 
but  you  acknowledge  Christ's  claim  in  all  you  are, 
in  all  you  have.  He  is  the  giver,  and  demands  a 
proportion  of  the  silver  and  gold  to  Himself.     To 


332  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

withhold  it  is  sacrilege,  and  as  of  yore  lie  still  sits 
'  over  against  the  treasury,'  and  estimates  what  is 
given,  not  by  its  actual  bulk,  but  by  its  proportional 
value.  Will  you  then  be  so  selfish  as  to  keep  back 
what  it  is  iu  your  power  to  confer  ?  Having  drunk 
of  the  river  of  water  of  life  yourselves,  and  yet  stand- 
ing on  the  margin  of  the  sacred  stream,  let  your 
voice  reach  to  the  farthest  shores:  'Ho,  every  one' 
that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that 
hath  no  money :  come  ye,  buy  and  eat ;  yea,  come, 
buy  wine  and  milk,  without  money  and  without 
price.' 

Besides,  as  love  to  Jesus  is  the  grand  motive, 
think  what  satisfaction  you  bring  to  the  Saviour 
Himself.  Xo  one  has  such  an  interest  in  that  work 
as  He.  As  each  soul  is  converted,  a  thrill  of  exalted 
joy  passes  through  His  bosom,  and  to  be  instru- 
mental in  producing  this  —  0,  what  an  honour! 
You  may  not  be  able  fully  to  realise  it,  but  be  it 
yours  to  share  in  it,  so  that  through  you  He  may 
'see  of  the  travail  of  His  soul,  and  be  satisfied.' 
When  a  sinner  is  converted  and  blessed  for  ever, 
gladness  also  fills  the  heart  of  angels.  Heaven  is 
moved  to  ecstasy  with  the  tidings  of  the  success  of 
the  missionary  enterprise.  The  redeemed  sjDirit,  as 
it  feels  its  obligations  to  Christ,  will  thus  become 
steadfast  and  immovable  in  His  work.  It  will  iden- 
tify itself  with  all  His  desires,  and  among  them  is 
paramount  the  conversion  of  the  world.  For  this 
He  reigns  and  pleads,  for  this  He  dispenses  the  gifts 
of  His  Spirit,  for  this  He  has  planted  Plis  church 


THE   MISSIONARY   ENTERPRISE.  333 

and  brought  you  by  His  grace  within  its  pale.  As 
then  you  set  your  heart  on  what  He  has  sef  His 
heart,  and  pray  for  it,  labour  for  it,  and  contribute 
for  its  advancement,  be  this  your  aspiration  — 

*  Come  then,  and,  added  to  Thy  many  crowns, 
Receive  yet  one,  the  crown  of  all  the  earth. 
Thou  who  alone  art  worthy.     It  was  Thine 
By  ancient  covenant,  ere  nature's  birth ; 
And  Thou  hast  made  it  Thine  by  purchase  since, 
And  overpaid  its  value  with  Thy  blood. 
Thy  saints  proclaim  Thee  king  ;  and  in  their  heart 
Thy  title  is  engraven  with  a  pen 
Dipped  in  the  fountain  of  eternal  love.' 

And  if  it  be  Christ's  work,  so  loved  by  Him,  and 
so  loved  by  you  because  it  is  loved  by  Him,  it  must 
be  successful.  The  assurance  based  on  such  a  fact 
must  sustain  you  in  it.  Shall  I  turn  you  to  the  re- 
markable prophecies  of  Scripture?  Is  not  their 
language  precise  and  full,  the  imagery  bold  and 
varied,  and  their  spirit  that  of  earnest  penetration. 
The  earliest  promise  contained  the  assurance  of  vic- 
tory over  the  serpent.  The  covenant  made  wnth 
Abraham  imbosomed  a  blessing  to  all  nations  of 
the  earth.  Dominion  from  sea  to  sea  was  predicted 
of  the  Son  of  David.  The  restoration  of  the  Jews 
was  to  be  to  Him  a  'light  thing,'  compared  w^ith 
the  conversion  of  the  Gentiles.  The  mountain  of 
the  Lord's  house  was  to  be  elevated  to  a  conspicuous 
eminence  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  that  it  might  be  a 
sanctuary  for  the  world.  Heathen  kings  are  to  lay 
their  crowns  at  the  feet  of  Messiah,  and  mountains 


334  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

are  to  sink  into  plains  before  His  victorious  pro- 
gress.* Ambitions  men,  from  Mmrod  down  to 
Bonaparte,  have  fought  and  toiled  to  found  a  uni- 
versal monarchy,  but  they  have  signally  failed. 
Yet  He  shall  succeed,  and  the  glorious  cry  shall  be 
heard:  ^The  kingdoms  of  this  world  are  become 
the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  of  his  Christ.' 

For  your  exalted  Lord  has  all  influences  at  His 
supreme  and  unchallenged  disposal.  Whatever  hap- 
pens forwards  His  cause.  Discoveries  in  science, 
revolutions  in  kingdoms,  wars  and  persecution,  are 
made  to  contribute  to  His  success.  He  sits  king  on 
the  floods,  alike  in  their  stillness  and  in  their  raging. 
The  one  Head  of  the  Church,  and  Head  at  the  same 
time  over  all  things  to  the  church, — can  He  be  turn- 
ed from  any  purpose,  or  can  He  fail  in  any  enter- 
prise ?  "Wiser  than  the  wisest,  stronger  than  the 
strongest,  and  better  than  the  best ;  if  He  be  for  us 
who  can  be  against  us  ?  Thus  runs  the  declaration 
and  the  command  based  upon  it :  'All  power  is 
given  unto  me  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  go  ye,  there- 
fore, and  teach  all  nations,  baptizing  them  in  the 
name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  and,  lo,  I  am  with  you  alway,  even 
unto  the  end  of  the  world.'  The  populace  of  the 
world  has  been  debased  by  fables  and  impostures, 
but  Jesus  the  prophet  has  given  a  complete  revela- 
tion, before  which  the  fabrics  of  delusion  fall,  their 
oracles  are  silenced,  and  the  dark  and  mysterious 
rites  of  their  temples  are  exposed  and  supplanted. 
Humanity,  under  the  pressure  of  a  guilty  conscience, 


THE    MISSIONARY    ENTERPRISE.  335 

has  often  resorted  to  impure  and  cruel  lacerations 
and  sacrifices ;  but  Jesus  the  Priest  has  offered  up 
a  perfect  oblation  —  infinite  in  its  merits  —  these 
merits  freely  dispensed,  and  their  reception  bringing 
peace  and  hope ;  so  that  on  that  atonement  we  safely 
rest  all  the  hopes  and  hazards  of  an  eternal  futurity. 
And  though  error  has  obtained  such  a  hold  in  the 
world,  and  grasps  its  wide  empire  with  such  tenacity, 
and  will  not  let  it  go,  Jesus  the  King  possesses  un- 
limited sway,  and  when  He  revives  and  unites  His 
church,  then,  girding  His  sword  upon  His  thigh, 
He  will  go  forth  conquering  and  to  conquer. 

Nor  is  this  all  theory.  It  has  been  often  realised. 
Our  present  churches  are  themselves  the  fruit  of 
missionary  enterprise.  It  was  but  a  small  band 
that  met  in  the  upper  room  at  Jerusalem ;  but  they 
were  filled  with  that  holiest  of  heroism  which  is 
based  on  the  love  of  Christ.  Three  thousand  at 
Pentecost  believed  in  Him,  who  a  few  weeks  before 
had  died  a  felon's  death.  The  sword  of  persecution 
w^as  unsheathed  —  they  fled;  but  they  'went  every- 
where preaching  the  word.'  Samaria  was  greeted 
with  the  glad  tidings,  and  they  flew  through  Galilee 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  country.  The  wisdom  of 
Athens  bowed  to  them,  and  the  corruption  of  Co- 
rinth could  not  resist  them.  At  Antioch  the  dis- 
ciples grew  so  rapidly  as  to  receive  a  distinctive 
name  from  the  Divine  Teacher ;  and  the  iron  valour 
of  Pome  was  conquered  by  the  invisible  might  of 
the  crucified  Nazarene.  The  temple  of  Diana  was 
abandoned  at  Ephesus,  and  books  of  magic  were 


836  THE   DIVINE   LOVE. 

burned.  Macedonia,  famed  of  old  for  its  phalanx, 
yielded  to  the  Victor.  Christianity  came,  and  saw, 
and  conquered.  It  surmounted  the  Alps,  and  de- 
scended into  Gaul ;  scaled  the  Pyrenees,  and  gather- 
ed converts  in  Spain ;  crossed  the  channel,  and 
founded  its  churches  in  the  British  Isles. 

liTor  is  it  different  in  more  modern  times.  The 
snowy  regions  of  Greenland  have  been  thawed. 
Among  the  dwellings  of  the  South  Seas  a  change 
has  come  over  the  population  which  was  once  as 
far  beyond  control  as  the  surf  that  beats  on  their 
coral  reefs.  Breaches  have  been  made  in  the  great 
wall  of  China,  and  Brahma  is  retiring  sullenly  from 
the  shores  of  the  Ganges.  The  throne  of  Mahomet 
begins  to  shake ;  the  crescent  is  waning,  ere  long 
to  be  eclipsed ;  and  the  lamps  which  have  burned 
for  ages  in  the  shrine  of  Mecca,  are  glimmering 
with  a  feeble  and  dying  histre.  In  the  islands  of 
the  West  Indies  many  a  sable  countenance  has  been 
lighted  up  with  joy,  and  emancipation  from  human 
bondage  has  been  felt  to  be  second  to  a  happier  and 
nobler  freedom.  Yea,  among  the  children  of  Ham, 
steeped  in  superstition  and  barbarity,  the  beginning 
has  been  made  —  a  prelude  to  the  coming  epoch 
when  Ethiopia's  outstretched  hands  shall  be  loaded 
with  the  blessings  she  so  earnestly  craves.  May  we 
not  also  perceive,  that  in  popish  countries  there  is  a 
shaking  among  the  dry  bones ;  the  terror  that  in- 
spires and  increases  persecution  being  to  us  a  token 
of  partial  and  incipient  successes.  The  Anglo- 
Saxon  races  in  Canada,  the  States  of  America,  the 


THE    MISSIONARY    KNTERPRISE.  337 

Cape  of  Good  Hope,  Xew  Zoiiland,  and  Australia; 
the  English  rule  in  India,  and  its  settlement  at 
Canton,  have  been  planted  in  these  various  localities, 
in  providence,  not  simply  I'or  purposes  of  commerce 
and  colonization,  but  for  a  higher  and  ultimate  de- 
sign— that  as  centres  of  influence  they  may  evange- 
lise the  globe.  O  for  mightier  prayer  and  redoubled 
energy,  enlarged  liberality  and  more  hearty  conse- 
cration, that  the  few  labourers  may  be  multiplied, 
that  efforts  made  may  be  blessed,  that  the  mites 
may  become  shekels,  that  the  church  may  awake  to 
its  mission,  and  the  world  be  speedily  won  over  to 
Messiah,  the  Prince  !  The  world  shall  be  so  won  : 
*I  bave  sworn  by  myself,  the  word  is  gone  out  of 
my  mouth  in  righteousness,  and  shall  not  return, 
That  unto  me  every  knee  shall  bow,  every  tongue 
shall  swear.'  '  0  earth,  earth,  earth,  bear  the  word 
of  the  Lord.' 


*  Arabia's  desert  ranger 

To  Him  shall  bow  the  knee ; 
The  Ethiopian  stranger 

His  glory  come  to  see : 
With  off 'rings  of  devotion, 

Ships  from  the  Isles  shall  meet, 
To  pour  the  wealth  of  ocean 

In  tribute  at  His  feet. 

*  Kings  shall  fall  down  before  Ilim, 

And  gold  and  incenso  bring: 
All  nations  shall  adore  Ilim ; 
His  praise  all  people  sing: 

29 


338  THE  ^  DIVINE    LOVE. 

For  He  shall  have  dominion 

O'er  river,  sea,  and  shore, 
Far  as  the  eagle's  pinion 

Or  dove's  light  wing  can  soar.* 

In  fine,  when  any  command  of  Christ  is  obeyed 
from  love  to  Him,  such  obedience  brings  its  own 
reward.  How  nobly  will  missionary  prayer,  liberal- 
ity, and  eiFort  bless  yourselves.  They  will  return 
sevenfold  into  your  bosom.  You  will  enjoy  the 
gospel  in  proportion  to  your  efforts  to  diffuse  it. 
And  you  will  also  retain  it  among  you.  The  early 
churches,  so  soon  as  they  ceased  to  be  missionary, 
died  out.  The  candle  was  put  under  a  bushel,  and 
it  soon  expired ;  and  then,  as  it  was  of  no  further 
use,  the  candlestick  itself  was  removed  out  of  his 
place.  Thus  perished  the  African  church  —  the 
church  of  Tertullian,  the  prince  of  orators  —  of 
Augustine,  the  first  of  theologians — and  of  Cyprian, 
the  meekest  of  martyrs.  Your  activity  will  give 
health  to  your  piety,  and  keep  it  free  from  morbid 
casuistry  and  pernicious  slumber.  *  There  is  that 
scattereth  and  yet  increaseth.'  God  is  able  to  make 
all  grace  abound  toward  you.  The  ocean  which, 
from  its  generous  bosom,  sends  up  the  vapour  which 
is  condensed  into  rain,  is  not  thereby  diminished  in 
volume ;  for  it  receives  its  waters  back  again ;  having 
lent  them  for  a  season  to  refresh  and  fertilise  the 
earth. 

Thus,  wherever  you  look  all  is  full  of  encourage- 
ment. The  world  is  in  immediate  want,  but  pro- 
vision has  been   made  for  it  in  a  complete  and 


THE   MISSIONARY    ENTERPRISE.  339 

gracious  gospel,  and  a  motive  of  sufficient  power 
lias  also  been  furnished.  There  is  room  for  work, 
and  there  is  but  brief  time  for  you  to  engage  in  it. 
O,  then,  let  the  love  of  Christ  constrain  you  to  im- 
mediate action,  and  sustain  vou  under  it.  The  sue- 
cess  that  has  been  already  reaped  is  surely  an  in- 
ducement to  persevere.  Let  it  not  be  said  in  des- 
pondency over  any  of  you,  '  ye  did  run  well,  who 
did  hinder  you  V  '  Look  to  yourselves,  that  we  lose 
not  those  things  which  we  have  wrought,  but  that 
we  receive  a  full  reward.'  Be  ever  imploring  the 
blessing  of  the  Divine  Spirit.  Your  labour  is  only 
as  the  building  of  the  altar  and  the  preparation  of 
the  victim ;  unless  the  fire  from  God  descend  and 
consume  the  offering,  the  enterprise  cannot  be 
crowned  with  success.  In  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles 
there  is  a  uniform  recognition  of  the  divine  hand. 
Homage  is  not  done  to  the  zeal  of  Paul  or  the  elo- 
quence of  Barnabas,  but  always  to  the  Spirit  of 
God. 

In  one  word,  then,  begin  and  carry  on  under  the 
stimulus  of  this  mighty  motive.  Clamour  not  for 
immediate  results,  but  still  persevere  in  duty.  In 
spite  of  their  unbelief  and  rejection  of  Him,  it 
never  repented  Christ  that  He  died  for  men,  let  it 
never  repent  you  that  you  have  sought  above  all 
things  their  conversion.  Be  ^always  abounding'  in 
this  work.  It  is  Christ's  work,  O  let  it  be  yours. 
Ever  be  drawing  fresh  encouragement  from  all  that 
happens  around  you,  and  ever  be  '  looking  unto 
Jesus.'     While  you  work  yourselves,  enlist  others. 


340  THE    DIVINE    LOVE. 

Let  the  leaven  of  your  zeal  and  energy  leaven  the 
whole  lump.  And  when  that  result  is  reached,  as 
it  will  be  reached,  the  end  is  at  hand.  Then  shall 
the  inteUigence  of  Europe  be  exalted  and  sanctified, 
and  the  spiritual  fruits  of  Asia  shall  resemble  its 
own  tropical  productions  in  profuseness  and  beauty, 
and  the  isles  of  the  South  Seas  shall  lift  up  the 
voice  together  and  sing,  and  Africa  shall  be  washed, 
and  made  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  the 
great  American  continent  shall,  through  all  its  zones, 
glow  under  the  free  and  equal  radiance  of  the  Sun 
of  Righteousness,  and  the  globe  shall  be  vocal  with 
one  continuous  melody  to  the  God  who  made  it, — 
to  the  Saviour  who  redeemed  it.  ^  The  whole  earth 
shall  be  filled  with  His  glory.     Amen,  and  Amen.* 


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man.  There  could  not  by  possibility  he  a  preater  conti^st.  The  one  all  fire,  enthusiasm,  and  semi- 
madness;  the  other  a  man  of  chastened  energy  and  convincing  calmness.  The  one  like  a  meteor, 
flashm?  across  a  troubled  sky,  and  then  vanishing  suddenly  in  the  darkness  ;  the  other  like  a  silver  ; ; 
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The  typography  is  very  chaste,  and  the  illustrations  neat  and  appropriate. — Presbyterian. 


I  THE  CHRISTIAN'S  DAILY  DELIGHT. 

I  A  SACRED  GARLAND,  CULLED  FROM  ENGLISH  AND  'AMERICAN  POETS.    Beauti- 

>  fully  Illustrated  by  Eight  Engravings  on  Steel. 

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*  of  the  work  is  found  in  the  lessons  of  piety,  virtue,  morality,  and  mercy,  which  are  thrown  together     J 

C  in  this  many-coK)'ired  garland  of  poetic  Rowers.— Episcopal  Recorder.                                                            i 


1  j"»»^»%%%»»»»^»»»»»»»»»»»V»\»%»»%%»»V»»»»»^^»»»^»»»»»»»»»»»»V»^»»»»»%%»^^»»»A' 


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PROCTOR'S    HISTORY    OF    TPiE    CRUSADES. 
With  154  Illustrations. 


;; 
i; 

i 

HISTORY  OF  THE  CRUSADES,  i; 

THEIR  RISE,  PROGRESS,  AND  RESULTS.     By  Majou  Proctor,  of  the 

;  Royal  Military  Academy. 

'  ______ 

CONTENTS. 
;  CHAPTER  I.  The  First  Crusade. — Causes  of  the  Crnsades — Preaching  oi  tht 
First  Crusade — Peter  the  Hermit — The  Crusade  undertaken  by  the  People — 
The  Crusade  undertaken  by  the  Kings  and  Nobles — The  First  Crusaders  at 
Constantinople — The  Siege  of  Nice — Defeat  of  the  Turks — Seizure  of  Edessa — 
Siege  and  Capture  of  Antioch  by  the  Crusaders — Defence  of  Antioch  by  the 
Crusaders — Siege  and  Capture  of  Jerusalem  by  tho  Crusaders. 

CHAPTER  II.  The  Second  Crusade. — State  of  the  Latin  Kingdom— Origin 
of  the  Orders  of  Religious  Chivalry — Fall  of  Edessa — Preaching  of  the  Second 
Crusade — Louis  VII.  and  Conrad  III.  in  Palestine. 

CHAPTER  IIL  The  Third  Crusade.— The  Rise  of  Saladin— Battle  of  Tibe- 
rias, and  Fall  of  Jerusalem — The  Germans  undertake  the  Crusade — Richard 
Coeur  de  Lion  in  Palestine. 

;  CHAPTER  IV.  The  Fourth  Crusade.— The  French,  Germans,  and  Italians 
unite  in  the  Crusade — Affairs  of  the  Eastern  Empire — Expedition  against  Con- 
stantinople— Second  Siege  of  Constantinople. 

CHAPTER  V.  The  Last  Four  Crusades.— History  of  the  Latin  Empu-e  of 
the  East^The  Fifth  Crusade— The  Sixth  Crusade— The  Seventh  Crusade-  -The 
Eighth  Crusade. 

CHAPTER  VI.— Consequences  of  the  Crusades. 

\ 


with  the  vigorous  style,  and  the  happy  power  of  giving  vividness,  colour,  and 
thrilling  interest  to  the  events  which  he  narrates,  so  conspicuous  in  Major  Proc- 
tor's history.  No  other  historian  of  the  Crusades  has  succeeded  in  comprising  so 
complete  and  entertaining  a  narrative  in  so  reasonable  a  compass. 

A  Handsome  Octavo  Volume,  bound  in  Cloth,  with  appropriate  Designs,  $2  25 
"  "  "  elegantly  gilt, 3  00 

>  %^i%^^  ^'^'^Si^  %%\%%  ^ 


;  At  the  present  time,  when  a  misunderstanding  concerning  the  Holy  Places  at 
Jerusalem  has  given  rise  to  a  war  involving  four  of  the  great  Powers  of  Europe, 
the  mind  naturally  reverts  to  the  period  when  nearly  all  the  military  powers  of  ;; 
Europe  made  a  descent  on  Palestine  for  the  recovery  of  them  from  the  possession 
of  the  infidels.  It  would  seem  that  the  interest  in  these  places  is  still  alive;  and 
the  history  of  the  Holy  Wars  in  Palestine  during  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
',  Middle  Ages,  maybe  supposed  to  form  an  attractive  theme  for  the  general  reader. 
;'  Under  this  impression  Major  Proctor's  excellent  "History  of  the  Crnsades"  has 
; :  been  carefully  revised,  some  additions  made,  a  series  of  illustrative  engravings, 
' '  executed  by  first-rate  artists,  introduced,  and  the  edition  is  now  respectfully  sub- 
.    mitted  to  the  public. 

','>        The  editor,  in  the  performance  of  his  duty,  has  been  struck  with  the  mastwly, 
',''    clear,  and  lucid  method  in  which  the  author  has  executed  the  work — a  work  of 
;;    considerable  diflBculty,  when  we  consider  the  long  period  and  the  multiplicity  of    ;! 
•    important  events  embraced  in  the  history;  nor  has  the  editor  been  less  impressed    '/> 


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and  beautiful  lines.  We  are  glad  to  see  such  a  favourite  poet  in  such  graceful  attire.  The  type 
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THE  CAMP-FIRES  OF  THE  REVOLUTION; 

OR,  THE  WAR  OF  INDEPENDENCE. 

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THE    CAMP-FIRES 


On  Dorchester  Heights* 
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AND  OTHER  CELEBRATED  AUTHORS. 

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ANECDOTES  of  the  HABITS  and  INSTINCTS  of  ANIMALS. 

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ANECDOTES  of  the  HABITS  and  INSTINCTS  of  BIRDS, 
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MARY  HOWITT'S  BEAUTIFUL  JUVENILES, 

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a  sprightly  and  very  effective  tale.    It  preaches  a  kind  of  domestic  gospel  which  every  pi.rent  will 
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■<$)'»^»»»'^^»»»  »»»»»%%%»»»»»»»  »^»»»»%»»w^v^v»^»»»^%»»»»%v»v^^w»%»»»%»»»^»»»». 


Xiiibsai]  ^  331aki5toii's  publications. 

THE  YOUNG  AMERICAN'S   LIBRARY; 

A    USEFUL   AND    ATTRACTIVE    SERIES    OP    BOOKS    FOR 

YOUNG    PEOPLE: 

EMBRACINS  EVENTS  CONNECTED  WITH  THE  EARLY  HISTORY  OF  OUR  COUNTRY, 

AND  LIVES  OF  ITS  DISTINGUISHED  MEN. 

Written  with  much  care,  and  in  an  entertaining  and  instructive  manner. 

WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  IMPORTANT   EVENTS,   AND  BEAUTIFULLY 

ILLUMINATED  TITLE   PAGES, 


LIFE  OF  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Franklin  as  a  Tallow  Chandler. 
Franklin  at  tfie  Printiiie;  Press. 
Franklin's  fim  Arrival  in  Philadelphia. 
Franklin  acting  as  his  own  Porter. 


The  Philadelphia  Library,  founded  by  Franklin. 
Franklin  attractin?  i.isrhtning  from  the  Clouds. 
Franklin  Sitrnms  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
P'runklin  as  a  Statesman. 


ii 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  WASHINGTON. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Washington  at  Eighteen.  ]  Washins:ton  Crossing  the  Delaware. 

Washington  Crossing  the  Alleghany.  j  Washine-ton  at  Valley  Forge. 

Surrender  of  Cornwaliis.  I  The  Washington  Faniily. 

A  View  of  Mount  Vernon.  |  The  Tomb  of  Washington. 

LIFE  OF  LAFAYETTE. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Lafayette  as  Commander  of  the  National  Guard.  I  Lafayette's  Final  Interview  with  Washington. 

Lafayette  Offering  his  Services  to  Wasiiington.  j  Lafayette's  Arrival  at  New  YorK. 

Lafayette  at  the  Battle  of  Brandy  wine.  Triumphal  Arch  at  Philadelphia. 

Battle  of  Monmouth.  j  Lafayette's  Tomb. 

LIFE  OF  WILLIAIV!  PENN. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Portrait  of  William  Penn.  I  Visit  to  the  Indian  Country. 

Penn  receiving  Instruction  fi^om  his  Mother.  I  Penn's  Treaty  with  the  Indians. 

Penn  receiving  a  Visit  from  his  Mother  in  Prison.  |  Penn's  Cottase,  Lastitia  Court. 
Penn  Landmg  at  Che.ster.  I  Penn's  Residence  at  Philadelphia. 

LIFE  OF  MARION. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Marion  as  a  Trooper.  I  The  Famous  Potato  Dinner. 

The  Last  Shot.  j  Colonel  Campbell  taken  Prisoner. 
Marion  and  the  Raw  Recruit".  Macdonald's  Message  to  Colonel  Watson. 

Sergeant  McDonald  and  the  Tory.  j  Mrs.  Motte  and  the  Bow  and  Arrows. 

LIFE  OF  DANIEL  WEBSTER. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Young  Danie)  at  the  Saw  Mill. 
Webster  Fishing  at  Fryburg. 
Webster  Declinine  the  Clerkship. 
Webster  Expounding  the  Constitution. 


The  Bunker  Hill  Celebration. 
Webster  at  Faneuil  Hall. 
Marshfield,  the  Residence  of  Webster 
Webster  on  his  Farm. 


* 


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LINDSAY    Si,   BLAKISTON'S   PUBLICATIONS, 


LIFE  OF  HENRY  CLAY. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Hesry  Clay  the  Statesman. 
The  Village  School. 
The  Birthniace  of  Clay. 
The  Mill  Boy  of  the  Slashes. 


The  Debating  Society. 

Bolivar  Keadins  Clay's  Speech  to  the  Array. 

The  Residence  of  Mr.  Clay. 

The  Torchlight  Procession, 


LIFE  OF  ANDREW  JACKSON. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 


A  Portrait  of  Jackson. 
Jackson's  Presence  of  Mind. 
Jackson's  Narrow  Escape. 
Jackson  and  the  Acorns. 


I  Jackson  as  Judge. 

I 


Jackson  and  the  Indian  Prisoners. 
The  Battle  of  Nevv  Orleans. 
Jackson  at  the  Hermitage. 


LIFE  OF  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Napoleon's  Snow  Fortre»j. 
The  Battle  of  the  Pyramids. 
Napoleon's  Retreat  froii.  Russia. 
Napoleon's  Return  fron*  Elba. 


The  Brid?e  of  Areola. 

The  Battle  of  Marengo. 

Napoleon  before  the  Battle  of  Austerlits. 

Napoleon  Drawing  a  Plan  of  Attack. 


THE  YANKEE  TEA-PARTY, 

AND  OTHER  STORIES  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  Boston  Tca-Party. 
Hezekiah  Wyman. 
Mr.  Bleeker  and  his  Son. 
Tarleton  Breaking  the  Horse. 


Lee's  Legion. 
Seizure  of  the  Bettys. 
Exploit  of  Colonel  McLain. 
General  Morgan. 


THE  OLD  BELL  OF  INDEPENDENCE, 

OR  PHILADELPHIA  IN  1776. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  Old  State  House  Bell. 
Washington's  Prayer  for  the  Dying  Soldier. 
Defeat  of  the  Skinners  at  Deadman's  Lake. 
The  Story  of  the  Half-Breed. 


The  Outlaws  of  the  Pines. 

The  Battle  of  the  Kees. 

Capture  of  General  Prescott. 

Riley  going  to  the  Place  of  Execution. 


LIFE  OF  GENERAL  TAYLOR. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Portrait  of  General  Taylor. 
Defence  of  Fort  Harrison. 
Battle  of  Okee  Chobee. 
Capture  of  General  La  Vega. 


The  Streets  of  Monterey. 
Capitulation  of  Monterey. 
General  Taylor  Never  Surrenders. 
Charge  of  the  Kentuckians  at  Buena  Vista, 


Each  of  these  volumes  is  well  written,  in  a  high,  moral  tone,  by  respon- 
sible authors,  and  contains  numerous  anecdotes,  illustrative  of  the  early  and  latter 
history  of  our  country.  The  compact  style  in  which  these  works  are  written,  as 
well  as  their  low  price,  make  them  well  adapted  for  Family,  School,  or  District 
Libraries. 

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WALKER'S  RHYMING   DICTIONARY: 

A  Rhyming,  Spelling,  and  Tronouucing  Dictionary  of  the  Eng- 
lish L.auguage---in  which 

I.  The  whole  Linpuafre  is  arranged  according  to  its  terminations. 

IF.  Every  Word  is  explained  and  divided  into  Syllables  exactly  as  pronounced. 

III.  Multitudes  of  Words  liable  to  a  double  pronunciation  are  fixed  in  their  true  sound  oy  a  rhyme. 
!  I  IV.  Many  of  the  most  difficult  Words  are  rendered  easy  to  be  pronounced  by  being  classed  ac«>rd 
ing  to  their  endings. 

V.  Nurnerou.<!  classes  of  Words  are  ascertained  in  their  pronunciation,  by  distinguishing  them  into 
perfect,  nearly  perfect,  and  allowable  Rliymes. 

To  which  is  prefixed  a  copious  introduction  to  the  various  uses  of  the  work,  with  critiojil  and  prac- 
tical observations  on  Orthography,  Syllabication,  Pronunciation,  and  Rhyme ;  and,  for  the  purpose  of 
;    Poetry,  is  added  an  Index  of  Allowable  Rhymes,  with  authorities  for  their  usage  from  our  best  Posts. 

BY    J.   WALKER. 

;  One  vol.  12mo.     Price  $1  25. 

Here  is  a  boolt  that  the  young  poet— and  the  old  one,  too,  perhaps— will  find  one  of  his  most  valua- 
ble assistants.  It  will  not  furnish  him  with  inspiration,  but  it  will  readily  furnish  him  with  rhymes, 
which  are  often  the  best  aids  m  the  flow  of  inspiration.  Many  a  sublime  thought  or  pretty  fancy  has 
been  irretrievably  Inst  while  the  poet  was  scratching  his  head  for  a  word  with  the  proper  jingle. 
This  dictionary  removes  all  these  troubles,  since  it  furnishes  every  word  in  the  language  according  to 
^ ;  ks  termination.  In  all  this  there  is  no  child's  play,  for  such  a  work  has  its  value  and  its  dignity,  and 
; ',  its  value  is  above  the  mere  manufacture  of  couplets.  The  endorsement  of  Walker  to  the  system 
given  in  his  work  would  alone  raise  it  above  ridicule,  even  if  it  had  not  been  for  years  considered  a 
; ',  work  of  real  value  by  the  best  minds  in  England  and  this  country.  Walker's  system  of  orthography 
and  pronunciation  continues  to  be  the  standard  among  all  our  best  writers,  and  these  are  fully  de- 
veloped in  this  dictionary.  His  introduction  contains  an  invaluable  treatise  on  the  construction  of 
our  language.    The  work  is  very  well  printed  and  hound.— Bulletin. 

RAWSON'S  NEW  DICTIONARY  OF  SYNONYMES: 

A  Dictionary  of  the  Synonymical  Terms  of  the  English  Language. 

;  BY  THE  REV.  JAMES  RAWSON. 

A  neat  12mo.  Volume.     Price  63  cents. 

Of  the  various  books  of  English  Synonymes  that  have  been  published,  none  is  at  once  so  compact, 
comprehensive,  clear,  and  correct  as  this  one.  The  number  of  synonymical  terms  is  larger  than  any 
previous  work  contains,  and  there  is  nothing  superfluous— no  unnecessary  remarks,  which  are  more 
calculated  to  bewilder  than  to  inform.  It  will  make  an  admirable  desk  companion  for  the  man  of 
letters.— jEvenini;  Bulletin. 

JOHNSON'S  POCKET  DICTIONARY. 

^  DIAMOND    EDITION. 

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*',  terms,  the  accentuatioi  corrected  according  to  the  most  approved  mode  of  pronunciation,  together 
with  a  concise  classical  mythology,  a  list  of  men  of  learning  and  genius,  phrases  from  various  lan- 
(uages,  and  a  biographical  table  of  distinguished  deceased  Americans,  and  a  portrait  of  Dr.  Johnson 


LINDSAY   &.   BLAKISTON'S   PUBLICATIONS. 
THE   YOUNG    LADIES'    HOME. 

BY    MRS.  L.   C.    TUTHILL, 

AUTHOR    OF    "l    "WILL    BE    A   LADY,'"     "l   WILL   BE    A    GENTLEMAN,"   ETC. 

A  new  and  beautiful  Sdition*  enlarged* 

A  Traveller  betwixt  life  and  death  ; 

The  reason  firm,  the  temperate  will. 

Endurance,  foresight,  strength  and  skill. 
To  warn,  to  comfort  and  command; 
And  yet  a  spirit  still  and  bright, 
Witli  something  of  an  angel  light.— WordswortJi. 

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racter, and  offers  them  various  useful  hints  for  their  improvement,  mentally  and  physically :  explains 
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bility they  incur  by  a  neglect  of  their  proper  duties,  in  their  too  eager  pursuit  of  the  follies  of  the  day. 
Such  a  book  cannot  fail  to  be  useful,  and  we  hope  it  may  be  read  extensively.— £ai/iwiore  Anierican. 

THE    BROKEN    BRACELET, 

AND    OTHER    POEMS. 

By  MRS.  ESLING,  (Late  Miss  Waterjian.) 

Price  in  Cloth,  Gilt  Backs,  $1  00. 

"They  are  the  poems  of  the  affisetions,  swelling  forth  from  a  heart  chastened  by  the  discipline  of 
life,  sympathizing  with  all  human  sorrow,  and  loving  the  beautiful  in  nature  and  the  true  in  senti- 
ment with  unaffected  fervour. 

TREASURED  THOUGHTS  FROM  FAVOURITE  AUTHORS. 

:  BY  CAROLINE  MAY, 

;  AUTHOR  OP  THE  "AMERICAN  FEMALE  POETS,"  ETC. 

'>  A  neat  12mo.  volume.     Price  $1  00. 

[  In  this  book  all  is  sound,  rational,  and  improving,  calculated  to  promote  delicacy  of  feeling  and 

',  loftiness  of  sentiment,  full  of  good  sense  and  good  taste.    It  is  the  best  treasury  of  thoughts  in  the 

r  language.— C/imh<Z7»  Intellioencer. 

',  Containing  many  Gems  of  Thought,  from  writers  of  the  highest  celebrity,  on  themes  of  permanent 

I  interest. — Observer. 

\  "Good  taste  and  good  judgment  make  the  selections  of  these  excerpts,  which  convey  lessons  in 

\  morals  and  wisdom  in  brief  sentences,  the  best  for  seizing  hold  of  the  understanding,  and  remaining 

\  fixed  upon  the  memory. 

I  FOREST  FLOWERS  OF  THE  WEST. 

[  By  MRS.  ROBERTS,  (Late  Miss  Rickey.) 

I  WITH  PORTRAIT,  ETC. 

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L  She  possesses  a  warm,  lively  fancy,  and  true  poetic  feeling :  her  verse  flowing  pure  and  musical  a» 

\  the  waters  of  her  own  West.— Bulletin. 

t  This  volume  is  destined  to  take  its  place  among  the  nun  erous  American  poetesses  whose  charming 

t  verses  expressive  of  womanly  feeling  enrich  our  literature.— Pres6y<«ian. 


L- 


